


Welcome To The Clinic

by ReesieReads



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Dark Comedy, Depression, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Homophobia, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Morality | Patton Sanders, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Psych Ward, Sanders Sides - Freeform, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Trans Deceit Sanders, Trans Dr. Emile Picani, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23255170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReesieReads/pseuds/ReesieReads
Summary: What happens when a suicidal boy, an abuse victim, someone with debilitating separation anxiety, twins subjected to neglect and mental abuse, a pathological liar with behavior problems, and an insomniac all meet in a Psych Ward?Well, it looks a little like this...(On Hiatus)
Comments: 153
Kudos: 529





	1. Getting Admitted

**Author's Note:**

> This story has mentions of triggering subjects such as child abuse, eating disorders, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts, transphobia, homophobia, dysphoria, anxiety, panic attacks, different mental disorders and illnesses, and more. If any of these subjects are triggering to you I highly suggest reading something else.

Virgil already hated it.

The asylum, or “Clinic” as they liked to call it, was so bare. The whole building was white, and the lack of windows reminded him of a prison. The fence with barbed wire didn’t help much either. The idea of staying there, even if it was only for a few weeks, filled his stomach with nerves. He didn’t really mind getting away from his parents, they weren’t around enough for him to miss. The thing that made him so scared was not knowing what kinds of crazy people were in there.

Taking a deep breath, Virgil pressed the intercom on the gate and waited. He had walked all the way from his house, the only thing getting him through the hour being the music blasting through his earbuds. If the movies were anything to go by though, they were going to take his phone too. Scratching his arms beneath his sleeves, Virgil began to worry. Had they not heard him? They must have right? Maybe he hadn’t pressed it hard enough?

The intercom made a buzz and Virgil jumped as a voice began to speak, “Hello, please state your name and reason for being here.”

Virgil was only more disturbed by the robotic sounding voice, but he answered quickly “Virgil Storm. I’m-uh-I’m supposed to be admitted today? They told me to come so-”

“Come in.” The voice answered, cutting Virgil off.

The anxious man watched as the massive iron gates moved, opening for him. Was that what Heaven gates were supposed to look like? If so, too bad he’d never see them. Stepping onto the property, Virgil began to make his way to the only entrance to the massive white building. Inside was just as white as outside, all of the furniture and walls and even floors a blinding white color. Blinking, he walked up to the desk.

Behind the desk was a small person with short bright red hair. They wore a black jacket over a white polo, a name tag hanging from the collar. Looking close, Virgil could make out the words ‘Talyn Kat They/Them 23.”

The person before him certainly didn’t look twenty-three, and Virgil was shocked they were older than him. Ignoring that, the anxious man waited for the person to realize he was there.

Talyn looked up, their face turning red “I’m so sorry! You said you were being admitted right?”

Virgil nodded, “Yeah. Though, you sound different from the robot voice on the intercom.”

They laughed and Virgil immediately wished he had kept the thought in his head, they then shook their hands as if to reassure him “Don’t worry about it! And yeah, the intercom makes your voice sound a little dead. Sorry if it scared you.”

Virgil shook his head, “No, just curious.”

Talyn nodded before typing something into their computer. The screen changed and they turned it towards him as if looking for confirmation. It was a informational page of sorts about him, just stating the simple stuff like his name, age, sex, and reason for being there. Nodding to Talyn, Virgil leaned on the counter. He knew it was probably rude, but he was too tired to care at the moment.

After typing some more things into their computer, Talyn gathered a clipboard with some papers on it and a pen. “We’ll have to do a simple interview to understand the best ways to help you. Oh, and you’ll have to give me any items on your person.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Logan was admittedly curious.

The building seemed like any Medical Clinic, or Asylum that he had seen in the movies, but would it be the same? After all, this wasn’t an insane asylum, it was for people who were a danger to themselves or others for one reason or another. Logan hoped he wouldn't be chained to a bed, and he felt no need to ponder such unlikely ideas. If his Mother knew he was even thinking of it she would make sure he regretted it, so it was best to keep both his mind and mouth clean of such ridiculous things.

After getting through the gate, Logan’s mother led him inside the astoundingly large building. The excessive white was rather blinding, and Logan found himself blinking as he walked up to the desk. His Mother pinched him hard on the arm, and he quickly stood up straight and made his face impassive. The last thing he needed was his Mother mad at him in public, the last time he had been in that situation things had ended badly.

The person looked up at them, their red hair bouncing as they quickly turned to Logan’s Mother “Hello, I’m assuming you're the Mother?”

His Mother nodded, “Yes I am. I was told by his school to admit him.”

The person asked for Logan’s name and while the two spoke Logan looked closely at the person’s name tag. They/Them? What was that supposed to mean? Logan assumed they were pronouns, but he had never heard of someone using anything out of He/Him or She/Her. He felt silly for never thinking of it before, and he desperately wanted to ask them about it. However, with his Mother standing right there Logan knew there was no way he could.

“Ma’am Logan is eighteen, your assistance is not required” Talyn said as Logan tuned back into the conversation.

“But he’s my baby!” His Mother snapped, her grip on Logan’s arm underneath the desk starting to hurt.

“Yes of course ma’am” Talyn said, their eyes narrowed “However, you are not allowed to sign for him as he is an adult and can do things of his own volition. Furthermore, you can not stay after signing anyways so I don’t see why you are so upset.”

Logan’t Mother’s face turned red, and he had to grit his teeth as her nails dug into his arm “Fine! I’ll be leaving then.”

Releasing his arm, his Mother stalked away and out through the doors. She hadn’t needed to say goodbye though, or even give him a warning, his now bleeding arm was enough. Talyn grabbed a clipboard and pen, walking around the desk. Their eyes widened slightly at the sight of his arm, but they said nothing about it. Instead they began to lead him down a white hall.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patton was terrified.

They didn’t want to be left alone, what if their Aunt never came back? What if the people there didn’t use their pronouns and they had to go by him and he the whole time? What if they didn’t let them wear skirts or dresses and they had to deal with dysphoria? What if their Aunt got into an accident and they were left all alone? The spiraling questions never seemed to cease, and Patton had been crying for well over an hour now. Their head hurt and they knew they must look bad despite wearing their prettiest skirt with puppies on it. They bet their Aunt was just going to leave them there, they were clearly too much of a burden for anyone to deal with.

Patton clung to their Aunt’s arm as the two made their way into the Asylum. The short person behind the counter looked up at them and smiled. Patton really liked their hair, maybe they could dye their hair when they got out of here? That is, if their Aunt ever came back to get them. They may be seventeen, but the idea of leaving their Aunt seized them with panic.

While the two older adults talked, Patton busied themselves by reading over the desk person’s name tag. So they were non-binary like Patton? The thought helped ease some tension in their shoulders, if only some. If this worker used they/them pronouns, then hopefully they would let Patton do so too. They fiddled with their skirt as the two continued to talk, trying to focus on the puppies rather than the fact that their Aunt would be leaving in mere minutes.

Their Aunt was signing some papers, so Patton turned to Talyn “I like your hair!”

The desk worker smiled, “Thank you! I really love your skirt, where’d you get it?”

Patton shrugged, “I’m not too sure, I got it as a Birthday gift, sorry.”

Talyn brushed if off with their hand, “Don’t worry about it. It’s still really pretty on you.”

Patton blushed, warmth spreading across their cheeks. Most people didn’t like when they wore skirts or dresses, and they were glad this person didn’t seem to care. Their Aunt handed back the papers, swinging her purse over her shoulder. Their stomach filled with dread as they realized it was time. They clung tightly to their Aunt’s arm, crying and begging her not to leave. They didn’t care if they looked like a child, they couldn't afford to be left behind, not again.

Their Aunt lightly pushed them away, giving them a kiss on the head before rushing out. Patton could feel their hands shaking and their breathing felt far more ragged than it probably should have. Talyn placed a comforting hand on their shoulder and began to lead Patton down a hallway. Patton knew they were saying something, but everything felt like white noise. Wiping away their tears, Patton attempted to plaster a smile on their face.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roman didn’t know how he felt.

All he knew was that his Mother and twin were moving far too slowly, and that there was a giant dog across the street he really wanted to pet, and that rock was really cool! He was rocking on his heels and waving his hands which he got the feeling his Mother wouldn't like, but he had so much energy! Could you die from too much energy? Roman didn’t know, he would have to ask his sibling, that is if he remembered.

His twin said something next to him, but Roman didn’t really hear them. Of course he heard them, but the words weren’t really registering. What did their sibling say was their preferred name and pronouns were today again? They fluctuate so it was hard to keep up with them. It was Rema today right? Or was it Reem? He knew it definitely wasn’t Remus, at least he knew that. Then his twin’s word’s finally registered and Roman froze, his Mother was right behind him he just knew it.

“Roman,” The woman said in a sickly sweet tone that only meant trouble “You better not be acting like a hooligan again. I already have one bad child, I certainly don’t need two.”

Roman glanced at Rema, he had remembered the name now, his twin looked dejected. They both knew Roman was more preferred, the better twin, their Mother made sure of that. It didn’t change much though, both of them were terrified of her even if Rema got the blunt of it. Both of them were supposed to be her perfect little dolls, but Roman’s insane energy and Rema’s defiance and what Roman liked to call ‘episodes’ made that rather difficult.

Their Mother began to push them inside the gates, her grip on them like iron. Roman’s stomach hurt, and he briefly wondered if he had drunk enough water. The pain was pretty much a constant, but he could usually ignore it, maybe he hadn’t thrown up enough? No, that didn’t make any sense. This building looked like a prison, but it was an asylum right? He had heard his Mother over the phone arguing about it with the school.

They walked into the large building, and the blinding white reminded Roman of a Hospital. He had visited a Hospital years ago for his Dad and-that person’s hair was really pretty! Roman wondered if they were like Rema, or maybe different? His twin had said there was more than one gender, and Roman was trying to keep up. Their Mother didn’t talk about it, so he had to get the information from an out source.

They had gotten to the desk and the two adults were talking. Roman wasn’t very interested though, so he turned to Rema instead. She was in the middle of another of her episodes, not the weird Roman like energy ones either, the ones where she looked and acted like a zombie. They happen often and Roman always knew when they were happening. Rema would lose interest in all of her hobbies, even the gross ones that seemed to make her so happy. Then she would start complaining that she was tired, even more then usual anyway.

Roman and Rema hadn’t exactly gotten along, but they trusted each other enough with most things. They didn’t have anyone else to talk to most of the time, so they had to deal. He may not like his twin’s weird and gross hobbies, but seeing her lay in bed all day was much more unnerving. The dysphoria always made things worse. Roman didn’t understand how his sister felt, but he knew it wasn’t pleasant. She usually felt more masculine or in the middle so usually it wasn’t an issue, but then there were days where she felt like Rema, and the episodes just seemed to worsen.

“Just warning you, Remus can be a bit of a brat. He’s completely different from Roman really, like the devil and angel” His Mother said, ripping Roman from his train of thought.

Rema scowled, scratching at her face where a small mustache had started growing. She had desperately wanted to get rid of it, but neither of them were allowed around razors in case they got any ideas. Roman gripped her arm from beneath the desk, trying to give his twin some level of comfort. He shared a look with the receptionist who seemed to have picked up that something wasn’t right. Reading over the pretty haired person’s name tag it made sense, of course someone who used They/Them pronouns would be more susceptible to picking up on those kinds of things. At least, Roman thought that made sense.

Their Mother then left after what felt like hours, she didn’t even glance at them as she strutted out of the white doors. Roman squeezed Rema’s hand and turned back to Talyn who was waiting for them with a clipboard. The desk worker seemed worried, staring at the two of them with poorly hidden concern. Roman briefly wondered why, but he couldn't ponder it for long.

“We have to do an interview, do you two want to do it together?” Talyn asked.

Roman glanced at Rema before nodding, “I think that would be for the best.”

Talyn smiled slightly, “Alright, well if you have anything on you I’ll have to take it.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Dee didn’t even see the point.

What were they going to just lock him in this obvious prison until he complied with all their stupid rules? He was eighteen years old, there was no reason he had to be here. So he had kicked someone’s ass and had to be bailed from jail, so what? That asshole had definitely deserved it for calling him a bitch. Plus, he had managed to steal a pretty nice lot from that bastard so it was totally worth it.

His Adopted Father gently pushed him into the white building, a stained smile across his face. Dee rolled his eyes, pushing him away as he strolled up to the desk. The red-head behind the counter smiled at him and the man beside him. Reading over their name tag Dee was slightly surprised. He expected a place like this to be less then accepting, but here was a person who was more then likely non-binary working. Despite himself, Dee felt hope bloom in his stomach. Maybe for once he wouldn't be misgendered every five minutes, maybe this wouldn't be like school or work or any other horrible society ran place.

“How can I help you?” Talyn asked.

“This is my son Dee,” his adopted Father said, gesturing to Dee.

Dee rolled his eyes, “adopted son.”

The man grimaced “Yes well, I know he’s eighteen already but he wouldn't come unless I forced him too. He’s been getting into fights, and stealing, and getting in jail, and I-”

Talyn cut him off, “We can do an assessment if you would like. If we deem him a danger to himself or others he will be admitted, but if not we will have to release him.”

Dee groaned and his adopted Father eagerly agreed. He really didn’t want to be trapped in this prison with a bunch of depressed losers. He knew he would though, because even Dee had to admit he was a danger to everyone. At least, he was by what people considered dangerous. If people got hurt Dee didn’t really care, he had other things to worry about. He had a girl in the city over waiting for him to sell her some stuff, he couldn't afford to have his business halted just because some assholes got hurt.

Talyn had grabbed a clipboard and was now standing in front of them, “Let’s get started then. You can wait for me if you’d like sir, or I can simply call you if Dee is not admitted.”

His adopted Father shook his head, sitting down in one of the chairs on the side of the room. Dee narrowed his eyes, knowing full well that he was only staying because he knew Dee would run off if he didn’t. Of course he was right, but that didn’t mean Dee had to like it. Talyn asked for any items he had, and he considered for a moment what he should give them. They must have known full well he had stuff on him, and Dee had a feeling they were willing to wait until he gave it up.

“Fine.” He snapped.

He gave them his keys, wallet, pocket knife, cigarettes, and the small bottle of vodka he had stolen off some poor schmuck. Talyn’s eyes widened as they put the items away in a large plastic bag. What they didn’t know was that Dee also had a small multi-tool pocket knife stuffed in his shoe, and a baggie of crushed Opioids in a small pocket in his hat. They seemed like weird places to put things, but Dee wasn’t going to risk getting caught just because he had put his drugs in his pants pocket.

“Let’s go,” Talyn said softly, leading Dee down a white hallway.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Remy was too tired to care.

His head was pounding and he wasn’t sure whether the migraine was from the lack of sleep or the excessive coffee. He wasn’t exactly sure why his regular doctor couldn't help him, but if going to this Asylum thing could help him Remy was willing to take the chance. His hands were shaking from the caffeine intake, which even he knew was excessive. This morning alone he had already had three cups of black and a frappuccino from Starbucks. At the moment though it was necessary, he couldn't afford to suffer through another nightmare.

Walking into the building Remy was glad he had worn his sunglasses. It was so bright and even behind his shades his eyes were straining. It felt like someone was smashing a hammer down on his skull and he was worried he may be sick. Ignoring the dizziness he walked up to the desk, scanning over the person in front of him. Struggling, he managed to read the name tag hanging from their collar. Talyn was a dope ass name, and Remy would have told them so, but he didn’t have the energy too. Sliding over the note his doctor had told him to give to the receptionist, Remy tried to casually lean against the front of the desk.

Talyn looked at him concerned as they read over the note, turning back to Remy with a serious face “Sir, how much caffeine have you had today?”

Remy shrugged, “Three blacks and a frappuccino. Why?”

Talyn sighed, “That's enough to give someone a caffeine overdose sir. I’m willing to admit you, but you need to drink some water. Do you have any on you?”

When Remy shook his head Talyn simply handed him a bottle of water from behind their desk. Remy hated water normally, but as he drank he became suddenly aware of just how parched he truly was. The receptionist grabbed a clipboard, walking around the desk so that they stood in front of Remy. He had to admit, their shoes were hella cool. He would have to ask where they got them at some point.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to take anything you have on your person sir, including your sunglasses” Talyn said with a sympathetic smile.

Remy winced as he pulled off his shades and handed them to Talyn. The room was a blinding white and his headache only worsened as he blinked against the lights overhead. Pulling out his keys and wallet he handed those over as well. He hadn’t taken much when he left that morning, something rather unusual for him. Tayln placed the items into a plastic baggie before turning back to him. Their face was gentle, as if they were dealing with a child rather than an adult. Remy wanted to be offended, but he had a feeling he looked like a clueless child with how out of it he was.

“Let’s go sir,” Talyn said, turning down the white hallway.


	2. Virgil Storm

“Take a seat sir, Emile will be with you until Dr. Sanders arrives.”

Virgil stood in the doorway of what looked to be a bare therapist's room. There were no windows and the only furniture were two white leather chairs and a matching couch. In one of the chairs was a man around his age with wavy brown hair and square black glasses. Talyn gestured to the couch and Virgil took a seat. He avoided the other man’s gaze, instead watching Talyn’s feet as the receptionist handed the man their clipboard and walked out of the room.

The room was silent, and Virgil could feel the panic rising in his chest. He was in a room with someone he didn’t know, in an asylum made to assess your mental health, and he was likely going to be analyzed like some sort of lab rat. He scratched at his arms beneath his hoodie sleeves, the pain wasn’t pleasant and his skin burned from being rubbed raw but he couldn't help it. The pain was the only thing keeping him grounded, and it didn’t count as self-harm if it wasn’t a knife right?

“So your Virgil Storm right?” The man across from him asked.

Virgil nodded muttering out a quick “yeah.”

The man smiled, “I’m Emile Picani! Dr. Sanders is my cousin!”

Despite himself Virgil rolled his eyes, “And I should care because?”

Emile ignored him, but he didn’t miss the way the man’s face fell slightly at his comment. Guilt ate at him, and he briefly wondered if he should apologize. Then he realized it had been too long and if he apologized it would be too awkward, then the man would just hate him even more. Did Emile hate him? Was it too early in the introduction for him to form an opinion? No, he probably hated Virgil for being so weird and quiet. Should he say something? Probably. Would he? Probably not.

“You're going to make your arms bleed yuuno” Emile said softly.

Warmth crept up Virgil’s cheeks as he forced himself to stop scratching. Stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets he went back to staring at Emile’s shoes. The man was wearing a pair of brown loafers, but they were clearly scuffed and used. If Virgil had to take a guess he’d say that they were a pair of hand-me-downs sense they hung loosely around the man’s ankles. Everyone moved their feet a little when they sat, Virgil knew he tapped his heels together, and he found Emile pressed his toes into the ground and let his heels rise.

“So sorry, I got caught up with another patient trying to stab the Lunch Ladies with a fork” A man said, rushing in and taking a seat.

Virgil blinked in surprise, scratching at his face from under his hoodie sleeve.Trying to stab the lunch ladies with a fork? Was that a normal thing here? Were they going to stab him too? Why did he make it sound so normal? Who was he anyways? Was this the doctor? He didn’t seem like a doctor, or at least not as professional as one. Wait, that was rude, he shouldn't think like that. His mind was racing, and Virgil sunk his fingernails into the back of his hand, anything to keep him in the present.

“Hello, I’m Dr.Sanders! You can just call me Thomas if you would like.” The new man said “I know i have your file, but they can be pretty off sometimes. Do you mind telling me your name, gender, and pronouns?”  
Virgil sighed, fidgeting with his hoodie sleeves “Virgil, male, he/him.”

Thomas hummed, and the sound of a pencil on paper filled the air for a moment. Taking a glance upwards, Virgil could see how similar the doctor and Emile looked. They both had wavy brown hair, dark brown eyes, and slightly pale skin. Underneath his white lab coat Thomas wore jeans, a red t-shirt with a yellow star, and black sneakers. Virgil was surprised with how unprofessional he looked, not to mention he could only be a few years older than him. Emile at least looked slightly more professional, albeit quite nerdy. He wore a tan sweater vest over a white button up and pink tie with black slacks. The outfit matched his shoes in looking rather used, and Virgil wondered if everything he owned was the same way.

Emile must have caught him looking and met his eyes. Virgil paled and quickly looked down again, wrapping his arms around his stomach. The movement wasn’t as good as curling into a ball, but it did give some comfort. He hated eye contact, perhaps even more than going into the ocean, or going to a party, or even flying. He just felt so vulnerable, and being vulnerable was dangerous. If Virgil had learned anything, it was that.

“So,” Thomas said, clearing his throat, “I believe you admitted yourself? Do you care to say why?”

Virgil bit his thumbnail with a small shrug, “Well I have severe anxiety, and the panic attacks were getting really bad. Plus, I don’t really trust myself at the moment so…”

It was true enough, even if he didn’t say everything. He hadn’t admitted the last part out loud yet, and the idea of doing so was terrifying. Virgil still wasn’t sure it had happened, and he knew saying it out loud would make it real. He could still feel everything, see it in his head like a never ending movie. If his sister hadn’t found him, Virgil had no idea what would have happened. He pulled up his hood, wanting to avoid their gazes.

“Do you care to elaborate?” Thomas said softly.

“I-um-I-just-uh-” Virgil struggled to find an excuse “No, I-um-I’m sorry.”

“Thats ok Virgil,” Thomas said with no hint of anger, “Can we talk about the anxiety then?”

Virgil nodded, he didn’t mind talking about his anxiety “Sure, yeah, that's okay.”

“Okay,” Thomas conceded “Have you been diagnosed by a professional yet?”

He shook his head, he hadn’t had access to a doctor in years. After he turned eleven his parents stopped taking him, and he’d never gained enough money from his side jobs to go. It seemed pretty obvious though. If his panic attacks weren’t enough, his dozens of tics and inability to talk to people certainly proved it. If he got anything out of this, Virgil hoped it would be some sort of medicine to calm him the fuck down. Maybe then people wouldn't think he was such a spaz.

“Why do you believe you have anxiety?” The doctor asked.

“Well, I’ve had horrible panic attacks since I was like ten, I have dozens of little ticks that are apparently weird, and I can’t really handle talking to people or being around big crowds.”

“Well Virgil,” Thomas said “I certainly believe you may be right. I can’t tell for certain, but just by watching you so far I believe you may have some form of anxiety. You said you’ve had panic attacks since you were ten? Are you okay with telling me why that may be?”

“The first one I had was when I was in school. Some kids had stuffed me in a locker and I-” Virgil cut off, hugging his knees to his chest “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He felt bad, it shoudn’t have been this hard to talk about something so stupid. Yet he felt like his tongue was tied, and his chest felt heavy when he thought about it. The feelings he had felt way back then washed over him, and he could still hear his pleads ringing in his ears. Great, now his hands were shaking again. Hiding his shaking arms from view, Virgil stared at the white linoleum below them. There were grey specks here and there and he wondered where they had come from. Where they placed there on purpose, or was it age? Was it paint, or was it some other material?

“Can you still hear us Virgil?” Emile asked softly.

Oh, so he was being obvious “Yeah” he replied.

There was a shuffling of paper, and Thomas cut in “We’ll cut this interview short then. We already have enough to admit you, and I don’t want to push too much when you just got here. Emile, we have another patient to interview so we should be going. My friend Joan should be here soon, and they’ll lead you to your room.”

Virgil listened as both men left the room, Emile saying a quick goodbye before they disappeared down the hall. The silence was suffocating, and Talyn had taken his phone and earbuds so he had nothing to fill it. He thought back to the two men, and was surprised when his opinion wasn’t a bad one. Emile had been extremely kind to him, only showing concern. Thomas hadn’t pushed him like Virgil thought he would, and he had believed Virgil rather quickly when it came to his anxiety. He would probably never gain the courage to tell either of them, but he was thankful.

Some time passed when suddenly the door opened. A tall person with short black hair and paler skin walked in. They wore a black sweater over a white polo with jeans and boots. A name tag hung from their collar reading ‘Joan .S. They/Them 24’ in black print. Virgil got to his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets and refusing to meet Joan’s eyes. There were no words said between them as they began to walk through the seemingly endless corridors of white. Virgil wondered how people didn’t get lost, the labels on each of the doors and halls to brief to be real directions.

When they came in front of a line of open doorways with only a white curtain covering it Virgil glanced at the worker confused. The areas reminded him of showers, and his mind breifly flashed to the ‘showers’ at the concentration camps during the holocaust. Fear flashed through him like lighting, and he backed away slightly from the curtain’d rooms. Joan glanced at him, their gaze softening at what must’ve been fear plastered on his face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Joan said “these are just for you to change. We have to take your clothes in case you're hiding anything potentially dangerous. I think it's utter bullshit, but it's protocol. The jumpsuit you have to wear should already be in there, and you’ll get your clothes and stuff back when you leave.”

Virgil nodded, still unsure as he stepped into the first room. Pulling the curtain closed, he looked around him. The room was smaller than a typical closet, and only two things were in it. There was a shelf with a white jumpsuit folded onto it, the one he would have to change into. The other thing was a hamper behind him which had a sign above it that read ‘clothes go here’ in bold red lettering.

He changed out of his black skinny jeans and ripped purple shirt without too much regret. The only hard part was his hoodie, the one he hadn’t parted with sense he was thirteen. His only friend had given it to him for his birthday before they moved, and he had treasured it sense. As weird as it was, he hugged it to his chest before placing it into the hamper. There wasn’t anything but the jumpsuit on the shelf, so he kept on his underwear and black slides. Pulling on the suit and zipping the front, Virgil couldn't help but be annoyed at how baggy it was. He had always been skinny, but this was just embarrassing.

When he walked out Joan was still waiting for him. They looked tired, and Virgil briefly wondered how long they had been working. Without a word the two began walking again. The halls were deadly silent, if anyone was behind the dozens of doors they passed he couldn't tell. After a few minutes they came to a slightly different hallway. The area had a new sort of air around it, like it was fresher than the others. There was also an end down the hall, which was something he had yet to see while walking around.

“This is the new hall” Joan said, “Each hall’s people are grouped together for lunch, activities, and group therapy. They were starting to run out of room, so they added another hallway. There are only seven rooms though, so I’m not sure why they thought it would help. Anyways, this is yours.”

They had come to the end of the hall, both of them standing in front of a plain white door. An area for a name-plate was on the wall next to it, and Joan slid a black metal plate into it. The plate read ‘VIRGIL STORM’ in silver letters. Then they slid a card beneath the handle, a clicking sound following. Opening the door, Virgil stepped inside and let out a breath.

The place was admittedly small, but it was cleaner and nicer then any room Virgil had ever stayed in. There was a white double bed in the middle of the right wall in the biggest room, big pillows set up like a soft mountain. A white nightstand sat beside it with a small lamp. There were no windows, but paintings covered the walls to make up for how bare it was. On the left side of the bedroom was a white leather chair and another nightstand with a lamp. Peering into the only other room, which was a bathroom, it seemed pretty typical. The only strange thing was a painting was put in place of a mirror, one of the ocean.

“Pretty fuckin’ sweet right?” Joan asked, leaning on the door frame of the entrance “over time you’ll get some books and if you're lucky a stereo or something. We can’t let you have anything sharp or that you may use to hurt yourself, but you’ll go crazy if you don’t have anything.”

Virgil’s eyebrows knitted together, “Okay?”

Joan’s eyes widened, “Oh, I should tell you that the door locks when it's closed. So, you won’t be able to get out once I leave. A schedule should be on one of those nightstands, and there’s a digital clock in one of the nightstand drawers that you can set up. I have to go, but you’ll probably see me again soon. Bye!”

Just like that, they were gone. The front door swung shut followed by a click signaling that it had been locked. Virgil went over and sat down on the leather chair, sinking into its soft cushion. He felt exhausted, and surprisingly safe. When he had first arrived he had been positive that he would be killed by some crazy person, but it was actually pretty calm. In fact, he had been in more danger outside of the asylum then inside it. For now, maybe he could relax, just this once.


	3. Logan Berry

Logan stared straight ahead.

Talyn had led him to the interview room some time ago, and he hadn’t said a word sense. No matter how many times the psychiatrist in training, Emile, had tried to speak to him Logan had ignored him. HIs Mother had told him to do anything he could to avoid getting admitted, and that she would be waiting if he did. Shuddering at the thought, Logan opted to look over the other man. It was only polite to introduce himself, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to do it. His arm still stung, and the dried blood pulled at his skin with every movement. It would be a falsehood if Logan were to say this was the first time.

“Talyn said your arm was hurt,” Emile said softly “do you want me to get something for it?”

Logan shook his head, it would be seen as weak if he asked for help “No thank you.”

Before Emile could reply a man in a white lab coat rushed in. Logan had seen him before, but he had to leave for a moment to gather his paper’s. The doctor sent him an apologetic smile, handing the clipboard to Emile before taking a seat. Logan couldn't help but notice how similar the two looked, and he briefly wondered if they were related in some way. It wasn’t uncommon for relatives to work together, though having different surnames was a tad odd. He hadn’t noticed it before, but both men wore similar name tags to Talyn which read ‘Thomas Sanders He/Him 25’ and ‘Emile Picani He/Him 21.’ 

“So Logan,” Dr.Sanders began, “I am Dr.Sanders, though you can call me Thomas if you like. I understand your Mother attempted to admit you, but you are already eighteen years old?”

Logan nodded stiffly, “That is correct sir, my Mother drove us here with the intent of getting me admitted.”

Dr.Sanders shuffled through some papers momentarily before turning back to him, “are you aware of why she wanted to have you admitted?”

Again Logan nodded, “Yes sir, the school had called my Mother. They had insisted I be sent in for an examination, and to hopefully be admitted.”

The doctor looked exasperated for a moment before swiftly making himself look impassive, “are you aware of why the school wanted you admitted?”

When Logan shook his head no, neither the doctor nor Emile looked surprised. It was as if they had been expecting his ignorance, and he couldn't help but be offended. He tried his best to come off as rather intelligent, not to mention that fact that he actually did have a rather high intellect. It wasn’t Logan’s fault that his Mother hadn’t told him. She had said it would be a hindrance to his mental health, and he trusted his Mother enough to not argue with her. It may not make sense to him, but he was far younger than her and as such knew less.

Emile cut in, “you forgot to ask for a gender and stuff doc…”

Dr.Sanders paled and turned to Logan with a sheepish grin, “My apologies I’m in a rather big rush. Do you mind telling us your name, gender, and pronouns? I know your documents say everything, but they can be inaccurate sometimes.”

Logan frowned, “what do you mean inaccurate? Don’t they contain all of the information from your birth certificate?”

Emile paled, saved from replying by Dr.Sanders “well yes, but some people don’t identify with the gender, name, or pronouns assigned to them at birth. We like to ask in case your documents are outdated or a guardian is not accepting.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Is this similar to the receptionist using They/Them pronouns?”

“Talyn?” The doctor asked “Their an example. They identify as non-bianry, and they prefer to use They/Them pronouns rather then He/Him, She/Her, Xie/Xir, or anything else.”

Logan felt confused, and just a tad embarrassed. He had never heard of any of these terms, and it was a rather blow to his pride. How come his Mother had never mentioned these things? He wouldn't be in such a state of confusion if she had prepared him beforehand. It wasn’t like her to keep information from him, and he was sure she had some sort of explanation. He would have to ask as soon as he got out of here.

“Putting that aside, I go by Logan, He/Him, and I am male” he answered, wanting to change the subject.

The doctor nodded, clearing his throat before speaking “as I was going to say before, your school asked for you to be admitted for two reasons. The first is because they are concerned you may be sociopathic due to a lack of, well, any emotion really. The second is-um-child abuse due to reports of unexplained injuries and subtle flinching at raised voices. Can you tell us why you were behaving the way the school states you have been Logan? If not that's okay, but the more information we have at the beginning the better.”

Was this why his Mother hadn’t told him anything about what the school had said? The sociopathic thing hardly made sense, he had emotions, he just chose to ignore them and not show them. When it came to the abuse however, Logan wasn’t sure. Of course he didn’t believe his Mother was abusing him, she was just making sure he became successful. A part of him knew though, that what his Mother did would be considered abuse from a legal standpoint. The main question he was left with was one of his more complex ones, he either told them everything because he knew it was technically abuse and got his Mother arrested, or he said nothing and risked going back to her after all of this was over.

Deciding on the middle ground, Logan answered calmly “I can assure you I am not sociopathic. I in fact have emotions, I simply do not show them as they would be in the way of my work. I have no response to the comment on child abuse.”

Was he backing out of the question by not answering it? Absolutely. Was he causing more concern by not responding then simply lying? Certainly. Did he have any other option presentable at the present moment? None that he was aware of. Logan’s Mother would get him at some point if he spoke up, even if she was in jail, she had connections. In the end, Logan wanted to talk, but his safety was far too at risk for him to do so. For now he would just have to hope his silence figuratively spoke the words he himself could not say.

The two men before him shared a look, before Dr.Sanders looked back at him “its okay to talk to us Logan. No one can hurt you while you are under our care.”

“What about afterwards?” Logan felt himself asking, before realizing he had interrupted “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have interrupted, I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize Logan,” Emile said softly, brown eyes full of concern.

“As for your concerns,” Dr.Sanders said, staring directly into Logan’s eyes “we will take every precaution necessary to ensure your safety. If that means staying here until things are sorted out so be it.”

Logan nodded, adjusting his glasses “I will take note of what you have said. For now however, I do not wish to speak any longer.”

Dr.Sanders sighed, holding back what he truly wanted to say as he gathered his things “very well then Logan. My friend Joan should be arriving shortly, they will be the one to help you get situated.”

A spike a fear flashed through Logan as he recalled what his Mother had told him. He was being admitted, and she was not going to be happy about it. The idea of what she would do to him made Logan sick with worry, and he struggled not to show it on his face. The two men were getting prepared to leave, and if he didn’t say anything now he would likely not get another chance.

“Wait!” Logan said quickly, his voice pleading “can you make sure my Mother stays away from here? From me? I’m sorry if its a burden I jus-”

“Logan” Dr.Sanders interrupted, his face showing no sign of ill intent “if it will make you feel safer then of course we will. Don’t be afraid to ask us for things, it's what we’re here for, and it doesn’t burden us at all.”

A warm sensation Logan had never felt before curled in his stomach as the men took their leave. The silence was welcomed, and it gave him a chance to sort through his racing thoughts. Things were happening so quickly, and he wondered if they were for the better or the worst. Either way, he would get away from his Mother for the time being, and that almost made it worth it no matter the outcome. If this would help him be safer, then Logan had to take the chance, even if he got hurt in the end.

Logan’s stream of thoughts were interrupted by the door sliding open. A tall person who he could only assume was Joan walked in, a clipboard in their hand. Reading over the worker’s name tag Logan was surprised to see yet another person using They/Them pronouns. A part of him desperately wanted to ask about it, and the other knew it would be rude of him to do so. So instead, Logan held his tongue as Joan led him through corridor after corridor. The place was like a maze, and even Logan would have some trouble finding his way around.

When they came across a multitude of door frames only covered by white curtains, Logan sent a confused look to Joan. Were they requiring that he take a shower? If so, he wasn’t sure what his opinions on the matter were. A shower sounded nice in regards to calming him and helping him center his thoughts. However, a shower with another person on the other side with only a curtain separating them did not seem appealing in the slightest.

Joan snorted, “yeah the last guy was pretty confused too. Their changing rooms, not showers. Every person under the care of the clinic has to wear a jumpsuit just in case they are hiding things in their real clothes. We let you keep your underwear, glasses, and shoes though so don’t worry. Plus, you should get all your stuff back once they leave.”

Logan nodded, that made some sense. Stepping into one of the rooms and pulling the curtain shut behind him, Logan looked around. The space wasn’t much, and he figured they must have constructed the spaces with this exact purpose. Pulling off his polo and slacks, he easily disposed of them into the hamper. He owned multiple of the same pair, and wouldn't really miss them were they to disappear. His tie on the other hand held some significance. HIs Father had given it to him, and Logan had worn it everywhere.

Regretfully placing the tie into the hamper and putting on the much too short and much too big jumpsuit, Logan made his way back to Joan. The worker didn’t say anything as they began to walk again, and Logan studied the dark salmon colored bags beneath their eyes. How long had they been working? He hoped they would get a break soon, it looked like they needed it.

When they went down a much newer hallway Joan still hadn’t talked. Their eyes looked glazed slightly, like they were only partially there. It would be a falsehood if Logan said he wasn’t concerned, which seemed illogical since he hadn’t met the person more than fifthteen minutes ago. They came to the last door on the left, Joan sliding in a name plate next to the door that stated ‘LOGAN BERRY.’ Looking at the rest of the doors Logan realized only one other had a plate. The name Virgil Storm was interesting, and he wondered if he’d ever get to meet the person behind that door.

Joan swiped a card underneath the door handle, pushing it open when it let out a soft click. Stepping inside, the bland room reminded Logan of a rather nice hotel room. The only thing lacking was windows, a television, and a mirror in the bathroom. Otherwise though, he had no complaints. The place would likely prove satisfactory during his stay, and that was all Logan could ask for. 

“This is your room” Joan said gesturing to the space “you’ll receive more items overtime, but you can’t have anything sharp that could potentially hurt you or others. The schedule is placed on one of the nightstands, and one of the nightstand drawers holds a digital clock you can feel free to set up. When I leave the door will lock behind me, so you won’t be able to leave until someone lets you out. I have to go make more name plates now, but I’ll likely see you soon, bye!”

Logan watched as the worker rushed away, the door locking shut behind them. The silence was back, and he sunk onto the bed as his thoughts slowly took over. Hopefully this wouldn't be too bad, and he would be able to be safe from his Mother. At the very least he could understand how he felt about the dreadful woman, and come to terms with all the things she had done. For now though, Logan would simply pass the time away thinking.


	4. Patton Hart

“I really like your skirt.”

Patton blushed, fidgeting with the hem of their skirt as they met the man before them’s eyes. He seemed slightly older than them, and dressed much more sophisticated. Talyn had sat them down in here with him while the doctor left to retrieve some papers. They were glad they had worn the skirt now, it was providing some level of comfort and the compliments didn’t hurt. Adjusting their glasses they sent a large smile the man’s way.

“Thank you” they said sweetly, “I really like your tie.”

The man turned red, ‘Thank you. I’m Emile Picani.”

They nodded, “I like that name! It reminds me of my Mom, her name was Emily.”

Emile paled, shifting in his seat. Patton instantly wondered what they had said wrong. Did he have a bad relationship with their Mom? If so, that's something the two of them could relate on. Even still, guilt weighed heavy in their stomach. They had clearly made the man uncomfortable, and they should apologize, even if they didn’t know why.

“I’m sorry,” Patton said softly “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Emile waved them off with a small smile, “don’t worry about it, it's not your fault. I should have learned how to deal with these things by now.”

Before Patton could ask what he meant the doctor had come rushing back in. He seemed stressed, and they couldn't help but wonder why. Sitting down, the doctor quickly shuffled through some of the papers on his clipboard. Patton smoothed their skirt, reading over the doctor’s name tag. They had almost expected the last name Picani, the two men looking strikingly similar. Maybe they were overthinking this, that's what their Aunt would say.

Patton’s heart ached at the thought of their Aunt, and they almost started crying again. What if that had been the last time they had seen her? What if they were alone now? What if something happened to their Aunt and Patton never saw her again? Taking a deep breath, Patton ignored the pain in their chest in favor of turning to Dr.Sanders. 

“So,” Dr.Sanders began, “before we begin, do you mind if I ask for your preferred name, gender, and pronouns? I just want to ensure you feel comfortable.”

Aunt momentarily forgotten, Patton smiled “I go by Patton, and I’m non-binary, and I use they/them pronouns!”

Dr.Sanders nodded, “alright Patton, I’m Dr.Sanders but you can call me Thomas if you like. You Aunt admitted you right?”

Patton nodded, that ache back again “Yep!”

Thomas smiled slightly, “can you tell me why she had you admitted?”

Their smile faltered momentarily, unsure of what to say. Of course they knew why, but it was embarrassing and it would sound like they were whining. Besides, Patton had always been fine before, why couldn't they be now? If they lied would they be able to go back to their Aunt? They felt conflicted, and they nervously played with the sleeves of the cardigan tied around their shoulders.

“Hey Patton,” Emile said softly, “it's ok to say why. We’re here to help you, not judge you.”

They nodded, sucking in a shaky breath “she, my Aunt, admitted me because-um-I have severe separation anxiety. She also admitted because I-um-she may have caught me-uh-self harming…”

A small silence followed afterwards, and panic flooded over Patton. Emile looked upset, but he didn’t say anything. Thomas on the other hand appeared calm, and seemed to be searching for what to say. They didn’t know what to say either, and they shifted uncomfortably in their seat. They should have just said the separation anxiety, they didn’t have to mention the self harm. Besides, Patton hadn’t done it for about a week now, so they could clearly control themselves. At least, they hoped they could control it.

Thomas cleared his throat, “let’s talk about the separation anxiety for now ok?”

Patton let out a small breath of relief and nodded, “yeah, ok!”

“For starters,” Thomas said “who is your attachment and anxiety about?”

“Oh,” Patton said, “that's my Aunt. I can’t really leave her without worrying, and I’m always worried that she’s not coming back. Sometimes I’m worried she’s hurt, sometimes that she just won’t come back, and I can’t really sleep without her home.”

The doctor nodded, “do you cry or throw tantrums when she leaves?”

Heat rose to their cheeks, “I usually cry, but I’ve only screamed once or twice.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Emile interjected “when would you say it started?”

When they thought about it, Patton was surprised. They had known they had it for a while, but six years seemed a lot longer then they remembered. They had started worrying excessively when they were ten. They had just moved in with their Aunt, and after their parents' accidents it wasn’t surprising they were so concerned. It only got really out of hand though when they were fourteen after their best friend’s incident.

Telling all of this to Thomas, the doctor didn’t look even briefly surprised. Patton was grateful he didn’t ask about any of the accidents, not sure if they could describe it without crying again. They still hadn’t properly gotten over everything, and Patton was far too tired to deal with any flashbacks or heavy crying. Worrying about their Aunt already took so much out of them, and if Patton could they would most definitely take a nap.

“Well,” Thomas said “I definitely think we have enough information to admit you. We have two people to go interview, but my friend Joan will be here in a couple more minutes to get you situated. It was good talking to you Patton.”

Emile sent them a small smile, “bye!”

The two men left, and Patton was left alone. Their worries were still racing through their mind, but they were too tired to panic. They felt drained, something they always felt after leaving their Aunt. Flashbacks danced before their eyes, and they almost didn’t feel real. Everything felt floaty, and Patton wondered if they should be concerned.

The door slid open, and Patton watched as a tall person stepped into the room. They seemed tired too, and while they would usually be concerned, Patton was too out of it to say much of anything. Despite how exhausted they felt though, Patton managed to slide a smile across their face. Smiles told people you were fine, and while they may not always like it, Patton always had to be fine.  
As both of them were too tired to hold a true conversation they walked in silence. The halls were endless, and the white blurred together as they made their way down hallway after hallway. Patton scanned each of the name plates as they passed, trying to find the weirdest or most out there names. Most of them were bland though, like ‘JON WHITE’ and ‘VALERIE JOHNSON’ though Patton did like the name Valerie.

When Joan stopped they stood in front of a few doorways with white curtains hanging from them. Patton was admittedly curious, but they didn’t want to ask in case they were wrong. Afterall, with how tired Joan looked they may get irritated with them for asking the wrong thing. It was usually better to just stay quiet than to risk someone getting mad for your own curiosity.

“These are the changing rooms,” Joan said “There should be a jumpsuit on a shelf that you need to change into. You can keep your shoes, underware, and glasses, but everything else needs to go into the hamper.”

Patton nodded, walking into one of the small spaces and closing the curtain. They didn’t want to part with their skirt or any of their clothes really, but they knew they would probably get them back. If they didn’t they could always get more right? At least, if their Aunt came back they could. They forced the thoughts away, opting to focus on taking off their clothes. Placing them in the hamper they grabbed the white jumpsuit and slid it on. It was a little loose around their stomach and the pant legs were touching the floor but otherwise it fit ok.

Walking out of the small room, Joan nodded at them and they began to walk again. Energy suddenly began to flow through Patton’s veins and they briefly wondered if it was their bodies last hurrah. The fog that had crept in around them seemed to dissipate, and their step gained some of the usual pep it had. That familiar excitement came rushing back and Patton went back to looking at each of the name plates as they walked by. They may have their energy back momentarily, but that didn’t mean Joan did.

Eventually, they arrived in a newer hallway in front of a door just in the middle. Patton had already read the other two plates on the doors near the end of the hall, and they wondered if they would get the chance to meet whoever Logan Berry and Virgil Storm were. Joan had slid a plate into the door in front of them, ‘PATTON HART’ could be read in the shiny silver letters. The worker then slid their card beneath the door handle and there was a faint click.

The two entered slowly, and Patton looked around in wonder. Their Aunt’s apartment wasn’t even close to this nice, and their parent’s house seemed like a joke compared to it. The dozens of paintings were a bit odd, but Patton still found them rather beautiful. The lack of a TV or bathroom mirror didn’t really bother them much either, they had lived with far less before. Though the room did hold an air of newness that they didn’t exactly like, and they hoped they could personalize it over time.

“Well this is your room,” Joan said with a yawn “Your schedule should be on one of the nightstands, and you can set up the digital clock in one of the drawers if you want. The door will lock behind me when I leave, so you won’t have much to do, sorry.”

“Hey Joan?” Patton asked softly.

“Hm?” The worker hummed, leaning against the door frame.

“How much sleep have you gotten lately?” They asked.

Joan laughed, “not enough.”

With that the worker left, and the lock clicked. Patton was alone again, and all they could think of was getting some sleep. Their body was starting to run off of its sudden high, and their eyelids were starting to feel heavy. Unzipping their sandals and tossing them to the side, Patton flopped down onto the soft double bed. Their glasses smushed against their face, and they set them down on the nightstand before curling up beneath the blankets.

Suddenly their Aunt crossed their mind, and their eyes flew open. The questions came again, torturing them as their body begged for sleep. They couldn't now though, not when their Aunt could be hurt or dying without them even knowing. Patton felt the adrenaline start coursing through their veins as their mind raced, making sleep no longer an option. If they couldn't sleep now, absolutely exhausted, then how were they going to sleep here at all?


	5. The Kingsleys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait on updates! My mental health took a turn for the worst and I had to take a break. Thank you all for being so understanding, and I hope you enjoy this latest chapter. The next update should hopefully be out soon!

“Rema? You ok?”

She knew her brother meant well, he was just concerned. Part of her was as well, but she had these ‘episodes’ every other month so it wasn’t exactly new. Sure, losing interest in all of her hobbies, losing all that energy she had only a couple days ago, and worst of all the thoughts becoming even louder and seemingly more truthful was scary, but she was fine. Rema was always fine, a monster didn’t have time to be hungry or upset, they were too busy making everyone around them disgusted and angry.

“I’m fine.” She muttered softly.

Roman didn’t look like he believed her, which was a little hurtful. Rema never lied, it was something she prided herself on. She technically was fine, it wasn’t like she was in a bloody heap on the floor after being torn apart bit by bit. Her mind didn’t really matter, that little pink blob had always been broken and messed up, no one could fix that. Her brother wouldn't know what that was like, his worst problem was having so much energy he should probably have been dead already.

Before her mind could go through all of the different ways her brother could die from having so much energy, she laid her head on Roman’s shoulder. Despite them not always getting along Rema’s brother had always helped pull her out of her head. If she was having dysphoria he would say all the right things to make her comfortable. If she was having one of her weird over energetic episodes he would do things with her until she ran out of energy. If she was having one of her no energy episodes he would help coax her into doing things, into taking care of herself, to simply get out of bed. The only thing Roman had never and could never help her with was their parents.

“Hey,” Roman whispered, “you still here?”

Rema blinked, “yeah, sorry.”

Her brother shrugged, “nothing to be sorry for. Emile says the doctor should be here soon. I was just wondering if you wanted me to do all the talking.”

She was slightly surprised, blinking slowly up at her brother. Roman was almost never this gentle, his endless energy made it hard for him to sit still and volume control with him was basically non-existent. With Rema though, especially when she was like this, he had a gentleness she never saw with anyone else. A part of her wanted to say that she didn’t need his gentleness, that he was just being condescending and she should rip out his spine and hit him with it. The other appreciated it, because she knew full well that currently she couldn't keep up with him normally.

Sitting up, she sent him a small smile “I can talk, I’m not entirely useless.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, “never said you were.”

The two stare at each other for a moment before Rema finally concedes, “Fine. You can do most of the talking, but my vocal cords haven’t been ripped out of my throat just yet.”

Roman cringed slightly at the statement but he looked pleased. Rema laid her head back down on his shoulder, looking over at the man across from them. He was kinda cute, but not Rema’s type. Still, he looked a little uncomfortable, and he kept trying to sit up straighter for some reason. She was a little concerned, but it's not like she would ever say anything. Besides, she was already starting to feel tired and she still had to talk to the doctor. When she was like this every bit of energy was important, it came in limited amounts and she was never sure when she’d have any again.

After a lapse of silence, a disheveled man wearing a white doctor’s coat rushes in “Sorry!”  
Handing his clipboard to Emile, the late doctor took a seat and turned to the twins “Hello! I’m Dr.Sanders, but you can just call me Thomas. Before we start can you both give me your names, genders, and pronouns? I just want to make sure you're both comfortable here.”

Roman went first, “I’m Roman Kingsley, and I’m male so I use he/him.”

“Not all guys use he/him dumbass,” Rema said. 

Roman looked confused for a moment before shrugging, “fair enough, I’ll keep that in mind.”

She sighed, “Well I’m genderfluid so it fluctuates. When I feel more masculine its Remus and He/Him, in the middle its Reem and they/them, and feminine its Rema and she/ her. I’m feeling more feminine at the moment.”

It wasn’t exactly a good explanation, but it would suffice. She was way too tired to explain it properly, and she didn’t feel like dealing with any questions if she said some days she felt like a woman and sometimes she felt like something else. Gender was annoying, and if she was given the choice she would just be regular, old, annoying, Remus. Instead she was here with this stupid dysphoria and stupid lack of energy. The only good thing about this whole situation was that Rema could expose her parents and get out of that absolute hell hole.

“Well,” Thomas said whilst shifting in his seat “do both of you know why you're here?”

Roman nodded, running a hand through Rema’s wavy locks “I overheard our Mother talking to the school about admitting us.”

Rema looked up at her brother in surprise, “you didn’t tell me that!”  
Roman shrugged, kicking his legs “I guess I forgot? Sorry.”

She rolled her eyes “whatever you wannabe prince” with a laugh Rema stuck her tongue out at him.

Roman feigned a look of offense, placing a hand to his chest “you dare? Take that back right now!”

Rema smirked, “no way!”

Someone cleared their throat and both twins turned to look at the two men before them. Emile looked amused, a small smile on his face. Thomas held a similar expression, but there was something in his eyes that Rema couldn't quite read. She didn’t understand why they were looking at them like that though, was it an attempt to seem kind before punishing her? Roman looked as nervous as she felt, and a horrible tension filled the room. That exhaustion came flooding back again, laying heavy in her bones and her mind. Arguing with her brother always helped, but she couldn't rely on fighting to get out of her own head.

Thomas cleared his throat again, “from what my file says, your school asked to have you admitted for multiple reasons. The biggest being fears of child neglect. They also are concerned about Roman’s excessive energy and habit of spacing out or forgetting things, as well as Rema’s lapses of what appear to be depression or high levels of non-stop energy. Do either of you want to say anything about these concerns?”

Roman shrugged, tapping his foot against the ground “I mean they're not wrong. I always seem to have more energy than everyone around me, I keep forgetting simple things, and I can’t keep track of time at all. Sometimes an hour will pass and it will feel like only a few minutes.”

Thomas nodded and turned to Rema, “Rema? Do you have anything to add?”

She froze, fear welling up in her gut. Her stomach churned and she felt like she was on a ship just before it capsized and drowned everyone inside it. Rema wasn’t sure why she was so afraid, but she couldn't deny the adrenaline flowing through her veins. Logically, she knew Thomas wouldn’t be mad at her, but she couldn’t help but feel like whatever she said would be used against her. Afterall, her parents had used anything and everything against her, what was stopping the people here from doing the same thing?

Despite herself, Rema blurted out “I have episodes sometimes!”

Recoiling, her brain helpfully reminded her how stupid that was. Gods, could she do anything right? Who was she kidding, Rema had never done anything right. She had been a mistake from the very start, and everyone she knew had made sure she knew it. Well, almost everyone. Sensing the shift in her demoner, Roman squeezed her hand and turned back to Thomas. Both the doctor and Emile appeared confused but there didn’t seem to be any judgement in their gazes.

“There kind of like mood swings,” Roman explained, “we call them episodes since they kind of operate like that, at least, the depression ones do.”

“The depression ones?” Thomas asked, his voice gentle.

“Yeah, sometimes I get really depressed out of nowhere” Rema cut in, “sometimes something triggers it, but most of the time I don’t have a reason. I have hyper ones too, where I’ll get even more all over the place then my brother over here.”

Roman scoffs, playfully placing a hand to his chest “you dare?”

Rema shrugs, willing herself to not freak out. He’s joking, she knows this, it's obvious, there's absolutely no reason for her to get nervous. Shoving her face harshly into Roman’s shoulder, she lets out a small growl. He doesn’t reply, simply running a hand threw her at the moment far to short brown curls. She didn’t have to talk anymore, Roman would make sure of it, and the thought was reassuring. Roman always knew what Rema needed, and though she would never say it out loud, she appreciated it.

“She stops sleeping sometimes,” Roman admits, he sounded worried “I have to give her medicine to force her or else she’ll stay up for days at a time.”

Peeking out from Roman’s shoulder so she could see the two men’s faces, she was surprised to see how impassive they were. Emile admittedly looked a little uncomfortable, but something told her that it had nothing to do with their conversation. Thomas however acted as if he had heard it a hundred times over, and Rema wondered if he had. How many other people were as fucked up as she was? Well, almost as fucked up as she was. No one could possibly reach her level of messed up, except maybe Jeffery Dahmer, that dude was pretty fucked up in the head.

Thomas went to speak when there was a knock on the door, groaning the doctor opened it. A person with short black hair and dark under eyes, a walking zombie is what her brain helpfully supplied. It was close to the truth though, the person looked like they were dead on their feet, exhaustion rolling off them like waves. Thomas blinked before grabbing the clipboard from the person, along with what looked to be name plates. A look of concern and confusion was plastered on the doctor’s face.

“Sorry to interrupt doc,” The person, Joan Rema read said, “ you got another one, and Talyn says they look like a runner.”

The doctor groaned, before looking Joan in the eyes “alright, I’m going, but you need to go home Joan. You're practically dead on your feet, and Emile knows the procedure well enough to take over.”

The worker looked like they wanted to argue, but thought better of it and simply nodded “alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Thomas nodded, “get some rest Joan, I mean it.”

They nodded, “got it doc.”

With that, Joan was gone. Thomas turned to Emile, handing him the clipboard and plates before rushing out with a quick goodbye. There was a silence as the man shuffled through the things hastily placed in his hands. The only sound was Roman’s foot tap, tap, tapping at an ever growing speed. He was nervous, she could tell, and she couldn’t blame him. What would happen once they left this room? Would they be seperated? Experimented on? Maybe this would be like those twin experiments done during the holocaust.

If they did end up getting poked and prodded, Rema knew it would be her fault. Roman was perfect other than his energy, some pills and he would be a living angel. It wasn’t like that for her, nothing was ever that easy when it came to Rema. She was demented, and an amount of messed up that no medicine could fix. Rema was broken, she was crazy, and she knew it. If anyone deserved to be tortured it’d be her, if she was honest a part of it almost sounded fun, but her brother didn’t deserve it. Roman deserved a mansion and a happy family with all the money he’d like, and that was just for putting up with her.

Her mind was racing, and she hardly registered the fact that they had begun walking. Everything was a dull buzz, not feeling exactly real. Roman’s hand in hers felt like it was made of lead, and it was the only thing keeping Rema even slightly aware. They were moving horribly slow, Rema could tell that at least. Emile looked exhausted, sweat beading at his hairline as they walked. The man and Roman were talking about some show, but Rema couldn’t be bothered to care. Her brain was floaty and the world felt distorted. The feeling wasn’t exactly new, but it wasn’t any less disorienting.

Before she knew it, Rema was dressed in a white jumpsuit and standing in front of two doors with Emile and Roman. The brunet man slid in a name plate next to each door, a click sounding through the hall when each was set in place. One had the words ‘ROMAN KINGSLEY’ written on it in big silver letters, while her’s read ‘REMUS KINGSLEY.’ Something twinged in her stomach as she read over it. Dysphoria had always been a pain in the ass though, and this was nowhere near as horrible as the mustache she wasn’t allowed to shave.

It took Rema only a moment to realize she was going to be separated from Roman. A part of her was terrified, but most of her was too tired or numb to even care anymore. Squeezing her hand once, Roman made his way through the door Emile was currently holding open. Hearing the lock click shut, she watched dully as Emile shuffled over to her door and unlocked it, holding it open with a hand. She stepped inside, giving the smallest of nods to Emile before watching the door click shut.

“Huh,” Rema said to herself as she collapsed on the leather chair in the corner.

Letting out a soft humorless laugh she felt tears prick her eyes. She was alone, for the first time in what felt like forever she didn’t have Roman by her side. They had been stuck at the hip, them against the world. Would that all change now, once they got fixed with whatever pills they were forced to pop? Rema didn’t see why it wouldn’t, after Roman learned to contain his energy he would see just how much of a freak his twin was. If that were to happen, Rema at least had a plan. She could simply chug down whatever pills they gave her. It would be just like downing a beer right? Then nothing could bother her anymore, no one to disappoint, because no one would be there to be a bother. She’d be six feet under ground, or burned and thrown into some dumb jar or the ocean. It sounded awfully appealing, and that was scary enough in itself.

Pushing away the violent thoughts, she brought her knees to her chest. She hardly processed the tears sliding down her cheeks, vision blurred as she glared at the white wall in front of her. Her bones were begging for sleep, but her mind would never allow it. Roman would tell her to lay down, to close her eyes and think up the nicest story she could imagine, to let it play out in her mind until she drifted off. So, Rema stiffly climbed into the far too nice bed, kicking off her combat boots and closing her eyes. Her mind wandered to the games Roman and her use to play when they were little as she slowly drifted away.


	6. Dee Lian

“I’m Emile, and you are?”

“None of your business,” Dee spat.

He didn’t need this, and if they wanted him to cooperate they were going to have to fight him tooth and nail for it. What Dee did wasn’t anyone’s business, especially not this random kid in a tan sweater’s. Talyn had sat him in here with a meaningful look, like they knew he would run if he could. Maybe they had dealt with people like him a lot, maybe they were used to dealing with ‘troublemakers’ and ‘delinquents’ he bet they did.

The doctor was sitting beside the Emile kid, shuffling through some papers. He had met up with Talyn to walk with them to the room, sending looks over at Dee when he thought he wasn’t looking. Emile had followed and came into the room a few moments after them, looking out of breath and rather distracted. Dee didn’t really care though, what the kid did was his own business. As long as it didn’t affect Dee, it didn’t matter.

“Now Dee, I know you don’t want to be here but-” 

“Don’t patronize me,” Dee spat “just because you're a doctor doesn’t mean I have to tell you shit. Hell yeah I don’t want to be here, so let’s get this fucking over with already.”

Both the doctor and Emile looked scandilized, which made Dee smirk. If he was going to be stuck in this prison, at least he could make their lives a living hell. It wasn’t even hard! If a few curse words could send them reeling, Dee couldn’t even imagine what he could do with a couple snips against their precious society. 

Though Dee had to wander why curse words were such a shock. Surely they have heard them come out of a patient's mouth before, right? You didn’t stay in a place like this everyday and not hear a couple ‘fucks’ or ‘shits’ he hadn’t even said all of them! The only reason he could think of was that he had said them with a venom they may not have been used to. Dee had always been proud of his ability to say any word with a horrible poison, like with each word he was a snake sinking his teeth into his victim’s heart. The reactions were always rather funny, and they provided him with a sense of joy that was probably not normal for something so cruel. Normal was overrated though, Dee had always thought so.

“I apologize,” the doctor, Thomas Dee read, said with a clear of his throat “I didn’t mean to come off as patronizing. What I meant is that it would be nice if you wouldn’t speak to my assistant in that manner.”

Dee snorted, “I’ll do what I want, you don’t fucking control me.”

Thomas smiled thinly, “of course not.”

“We should probably move on, we still have more patients after this” Emile said softly.

Dee rolled his eyes, “if you have so many more patients why don’t you just end this here? I’m not gonna fucking cooperate, your just wasting your time.”

“Nonsense,” Thomas said “now before we begin, can I ask for your name, gender, and pronouns? I want to make sure you're comfortable.”

For a moment Dee considered telling the doctor to buzz off, but he thought better of it. He could be an ass about everything else, but getting dead-named or misgendered wasn’t worth a snide comment. Besides, he had enough of those to last a lifetime. The doctor didn’t really need to ask though, Dee knew his paperwork was in that big stack of papers. His adoption certificate with his name change was most definitely in there somewhere.  
“Dee, male, he/him,” Dee said “happy?”

Thomas nodded, to Dee’s surprise, with a grin on his face. Was this doctor just really happy or what? He didn’t know, but it sure was annoying. Why couldn’t he just get frustrated like everyone else and toss him to the side? It reminded Dee of his adopted father, and the thought made him even angrier. He didn’t need anyone, and he defiently didn’t need this stupid doctor and his idiotic assistant who apperently wasn’t smart enough to know that ace bandages did more harm then good.

Thomas cleared his throat again, “Now your father said something about-”

“Adopted” Dee cut in, “he’s my adopted father.”

Emile frowned but said nothing, Dee was glad. He really didn’t feel up to telling someone else off about how adopting him didn’t suddenly make his adopted father his dad. Sure, blood wasn’t everything, but it also didn’t mean nothing. His dad wasn’t dead, so he sure as hell didn’t need some replacement father.

“Of course,” Thomas said, he said that alot Dee noticed “your adopted father told us that you have some behavioral problems?”

Dee snorted, “according to me? Hell no. According to this fucked up society, yeah sure, you could call it that.”

Thomas was silent for a moment before asking, “according to you Dee, what would be considered behavioral problems?”

Dee paused, what would he constitute as behavioral problems? The fact that he hadn’t thought of this before was surprising, and now he was floundering for something to say. He could snap that it wasn’t any of his business and shut down the conversation, but something told him these two wouldn’t be persuaded to give up the topic until they got an answer. It wasn’t like he could say getting put in jail, because he had been put in and bailed out of jail just a couple weeks before for assault.

“I don’t know!” he snapped, “being a murderer, or a pedo, some shit like that you know?”

“So anything that could constitute the death warrant?” Thomas asked, he sounded genuinely interested, it was strange.

“No,” Dee said, less venom and more frustration now “like, racists and homophobs and transphobs, that kind of thing? I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I think I get it,” Emile said, his voice hoarse. How tight had he wrapped those bandages? “It's like people who hurt others or hate others for no real reason right? Like hate crimes and that sort of thing would be really bad?”

Dee nodded silently, he would never admit it, but he was a little impressed. The kid had explained his own feelings better than he had. It was honestly a bit creepy, and Dee hoped it was a one time thing. He didn’t need his whole mindset explained to him, he got the idea well enough on his own. It was a simple yes or no with people, none of that complicated mumbo jumbo. You're a pedo? Yeah, fuck you, next. You're an addict? That sucks man, welcome to the club, whatcha need? Simple, quick, and most of all, efficient.

“That being said,” Thomas began “why do you think drinking and assault don’t fall on that list Dee?”

“You don’t have all the context,” Dee snapped.

They weren’t about to interrogate him on his actions, he wouldn’t let them. What he did wasn’t their business, and they certainly couldn’t tell him that his actions went against his own morals. Who did they think they were? His pals? Did they think they were the bestest fuckin’ friends because Dee wasn’t hissing at them every five seconds? Well, they were about to get a reality check.

“Thomas,” Emile said, his voice even “that isn’t any of our business, and you know it.”

The doctor sighed, rubbing his temples “I’m sorry Dee, I was out of line.”

Dee snorted, crossing his arms “you think?”

Thomas smoothed out his papers, obviously rattled “I think we have enough to admit you, and I really don’t want to force you to talk if you don’t want to. I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot Dee, and I hope I can make up for it in the future.”

With that the doctor left, leaving Dee alone with the Emile kid. Now that he thought about it, Emile was likely older than him. The assistant was likely in college already, and Dee would still be in high school if he hadn’t dropped out. It didn’t make much of a difference though, Emile still seemed like an immature child, naive and ignorant. Maybe the thought was a little cruel, but Dee wouldn’t take it back.

“I’m supposed to take you to your room,” Emile said softly.

Dee smirked, “I bet you're too out of breath to even walk, aren’t you? Ace bandages will do that you know.”

Emile blinked, “how did you-”

“Easy,” Dee said, “I used to wear them. I used to wear them all the time, even when I was sleeping, I fucked my ribs up pretty badly. From the looks of it, you're probably pretty close to doing the same thing. Just take it off, seriously.”

The assistant clutched his tan sweater, “but I-”

“Yeah, yeah, dysphoria sucks,” Dee cut in “but trust me, having deformed ribs is definitely not worth it. I won’t look, but just fucking take them off. Don’t make me say please.”

Emile’s brows knit together, “why do you care all of a sudden?”

Dee shrugged, “I’m not a monster.”

“I don’t have a bra though…” Emile said softly.

“So?” Dee said, “there just boobs dude, and you’ve got two shirts. No one will mention it, and if they do, I’ll punch them. That good enough for you?”

Emile nodded, a small smile on his lips, and Dee turned so he could change. If he was honest, he didn’t really know why he cared. He shouldn’t, he knew that much. But something about seeing the assistant out of breath and clearly in pain bothered him. If he was asked, Dee would blame it on the phantom pain around his torso. He didn’t care about anyone but himself, and that would never change.

When Emile was done the two began to walk through the long white hallways of the ward. Dee had called it an asylum at some point in their conversation, and Emile had been quick to correct him. Apparently comparing a Psych Ward to an Insane Asylum wasn’t a good idea. The two didn’t talk about much, just dumb small talk to pass the time. Dee didn’t usually like small talk, but silence somehow seemed worse in comparison.  
“No way,” Dee said when Emile told him about the changing rooms.

The assistant looked genuinely apologetic as he glanced at the small white rooms with distaste, “I’m sorry Dee. I really hate it too, but we can’t let anyone sneak anything in. You can keep your shoes and underwear though, we’re not that invasive.”

That wasn’t the problem though, and Dee couldn’t explain the problem even if he tried. Parting with his gloves and hat felt like a death sentence, and if they were lost… Dee couldn’t even think about it. They were his only comfort when things got bad, what was he supposed to do if they disappeared? What was going to keep him from scratching his skin until he bled, or ripping his hair out in clumps? He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t. They would have to fight him if they wanted to take them from him.

Dee shook his head again and Emile let out a soft sigh, “I… I can let you keep the hat and gloves okay? Just… Just keep them in your room okay? I can’t afford to lose this job.”

A relief washed over him, and the urge to hug the assistant overcame him. Luckily, Dee didn’t actually do it. Instead, he walked into the small changing room and shut the curtain behind him. He was slightly curious how Emile had known the hat and gloves were what he was upset about, but he found he didn’t truly care. As long as he got to keep them, that's all that mattered to him.

Dumping his jeans, yellow t-shirt, and black jacket into the bin, Dee pulled on the horrible white jumpsuit. It was far to baggy on him, which was better than being tight, but was still annoying nonetheless. The knit fabric of his yellow fingerless gloves felt amazing against his skin, and he pulled them higher up just for the sake of it. His black and yellow beanie felt heavy against his head, pressed tight against his skull as it hid his drugs and sandy hair. Both items had been gifts from his parents, the only he had ever gotten, and he refused to part with them.

When he walked out, Emile gave him a nervous grin “now we’re even.”

Dee didn’t actually mind his room, which was saying something. Sure, the lack of literlly any entertainment fucking sucked, but otherwise it was a pretty nice room. Even his little place in his adopted father’s apartment wasn’t this nice, and that room wasn’t horrible by any means. Emile still seemed nervous, but he hadn’t taken back what he said. They were even now, and Dee couldn’t help but find the thought funny. Emile didn’t seem like the type to believe in the whole payback thing, but maybe he was playing by Dee’s rules.

“I’ve got to go meet Thomas, but I hope you can feel comfortable here, even if it's just a little.” The assistant said with a smile.

“See you later man,” Dee said, returning the smile with a smirk of his own.

Maybe this whole thing wouldn’t be that awful.


	7. Remy Somnia

The water was surprisingly helpful. His headache was still there, but he could at least think without feeling like he was going to throw up. Talyn had been horribly kind to him as they led him to the assessment room or whatever the place was called. The doctor, Thomas, had met them right outside. He had seemed rather distraught, but looking at the man now you would never have known.

The man sitting beside Thomas, Emile, had caught Remy’s interest though. The assistant wasn’t like anyone he had dated previously, but he had to admit the dude was cute. For the moment though, he wouldn’t make a move or anything. Remy wasn’t opposed to outright flirting, in fact he did it all the time, but he was really just too tired to hold a full conversation at the moment. If he was struggling to talk to the doctor already, flirting seemed downright impossible.

“So,” Thomas said “before we start can you give your name, gender, and pronouns? We just want to make sure you're comfortable.”

“Um…” god talking was hard, “Remy, he/him, and I’m a, uh, I’m a dude.”

Emile was looking at him with those cute brown eyes, “are you alright?”

“Course I am babes,” Remy said with a grin, so maybe he wasn’t too tired for a little flirting.

The assistant turned red, and he had to admit the blushing only made the man more attractive. If Remy wasn’t such a mess, maybe he would believe he had a chance with the man. Still, he had to try right? He had never been one to just give up, it was one of his better traits.

Thomas cleared his throat, “Talyn tells me you’re suffering from a caffeine overdose? Do you mind telling us why you had so much caffeine in the first place?”  
Remy shrugged, “I couldn’t just go falling asleep on the road could I? Think about it babes, how else would I have gotten here?”

“I would have assumed you’d have slept?” the doctor said with an eyebrow raised.

Yeah, that would be the normal assumption. Though, if Thomas had known Remy at all, he would have known that ‘sleep’ is not in his dictionary. He was awake pretty much always, and his favorite saying was ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead!’ However, Thomas couldn’t have possibly known this, because he didn’t know Remy. Now he just had to come up with a good reason for not sleeping at all.

“I don’t really sleep,” or he could say that “it's not really my thing.”

“Not your-” Emile asked with wide eyes, “it's a necessary thing for you to stay alive?’

Thomas nodded as if he had heard the same thing a thousand times over, “Remy you look like you're dead on your feet, you must be tired.”

Of course he was tired, he hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours. One more day and he would probably start hallucinating, which had happened more times then he was willing to admit. Explaining his nightmares wasn’t a viable option either, and he wasn’t going to even if his doctor wanted him to. For one, nightmares were childish and he would just be judged. For two, the contents of said nightmares were no one's business, ever.

“Not really doc,” Remy lied “after a while you stop noticing it.”

“How long has it been since you last slept?” Thomas asked.

“Forty-eight hours,” he said as nonchalantly as possible, it was surprisingly easy.

“Remy,” Thomas said whilst making eye contact, “why are you here? Your doctor didn’t make you come, and you seem pretty chill about your lack of sleep.”

“Why am I…” Remy really didn’t feel like answering that truthfully, so he decided on a half-truth “I know I got a problem. As much as sleep isn’t my thing babes, I know I’ll probably end up getting real sick if I don’t end up fixing it.”

“But Remy,” the doctor said, why did he keep saying his name? “If you know that you have a problem, why don’t you just sleep? Surely you're not so busy that even an hour of sleep is impossible?”

That, Remy both did and didn’t have an answer to. On one hand, he knew exactly why he couldn’t sleep. On the other, he couldn’t tell them why he couldn’t sleep. They’d need a reason though wouldn’t they? Some random guy just never sleeping because he didn’t feel like it would have to be pretty strange right? 

“I can’t I-” Remy struggled with an excuse.

“Aha!” Thomas said suddenly, saving Remy from having to continue.

Emile stared at the doctor, “what?”

The doctor blushed, “sorry, I just got what I needed.”

“And what is that babes?” Remy asked, he needed to change the conversation away from him.

“A reason to admit you,” Thomas admitted, “you can’t admit someone for not sleeping if they actually can sleep, but if they can’t… well that's a different story.”

“Wait,” he said “so I’m being admitted?”

Emile nodded, “you're clearly a danger to yourself, which means you qualify.”

Remy wasn’t sure how to feel about that. If he was honest, he was glad. He missed sleep desperately, he missed good sleep. If they could help him sleep in general that would be great, but helping him sleep without nightmares? That would be amazing. The only problem was Remy couldn’t tell them about the nightmares, he’d never told anyone, and he really didn’t think he even could if he wanted too.

“Cool,” he said with a smirk, looking at Emile “guess I’ll be seeing more of you babes.”

Thomas rolled his eyes fondly as his assistant turned bright red, “Emile will take you to your room. Lunch is going to be ready soon and I still have a few patients to tend to.”

The doctor then left, a tired smile on his lips. It looked like Remy wasn’t the only one who didn’t get very much sleep. Turning back to Emile, he wished he could stare into the assistant’s eyes forever. They looked like rich milk chocolate with hints of mint around the iris. 

Emile cleared his throat, “you ready?”

Remy nodded, standing up slowly. His headache had turned into a familiar dull ache, still annoying but easy to ignore. His limbs still felt like jello, but he could walk well enough that it wasn’t much of an issue. The two headed out of the room and out into the maze of a place. The white walls all seemed to blend together, and Remy wondered how anyone got anywhere.

“So,” Emile said with a small smile “do you flirt with everyone like that?”

“Like what babes?” Remy asked.

The assistant rolled his eyes with a laugh, “you know what I’m talking about.”

He shrugged, “I flirt with a lot of people, it's just how I talk.”

“Oh,” Emile said, his smile falling.

“You didn’t let me finish babes,” Remy said “it's different with you. I actually mean it this time ‘round.”

“Oh,” Emile said, face turning a bright red “oh. Well, I mean, I can’t say I’m not flattered but…”

There it was, “if you want me to stop I can, I get it if you're not interested.”

Sure, it stung a bit, but Remy would find someone else. It probably wouldn’t have lasted very long anyways. He never was one for commitment, a year was the longest he had lasted. Emile was clearly a sweet guy, someone who probably was into marriage and kids and the whole sha-bang. Remy didn’t want to hurt the guy just because he couldn’t stick around.

“No-I-ugh,” Emile groaned “can we just forget this conversation happened and go back to flirting or whatever? I’m just really bad at this.”

Remy snorted, “sure thing handsome.”

The two went back and forth for a while, both trying to earn a blush out of the other. Remy had won by a long shot, but Emile wasn’t entirely unsuccessful. When they stopped in front of a row of small rooms with white curtains he was pretty confused. If they wanted him to take a shower then fine, but he really didn’t see the point.

“There changing rooms,” Emile explained “they make patients change into white jumpsuits so they can’t sneak anything in. You can keep your shoes and underwear though.”

“I’m sure you’d like it if I didn’t though right?” Remy said with a grin.

Emile shrugged, “I guess? I’m ace though so…”

“Oh,” he said, then nodded “cool, I’ll keep that in mind then, sorry.”

The assistant smiled, “it's not a big deal, thanks though. You should probably get changed, I have to meet Thomas soon.”

To say Remy despised the jumpsuit would be an understatement. For one, it was white, which was one of the worst colors ever. For two, it didn’t fit him at all. It was way too baggy in the legs and way too tight around the shoulders. If he wanted to be even slightly comfortable he had to stand completely straight. That would be fine, except he was way too tired to walk around like that. Uncomfortable it was he supposed.

He dumped his shirt and pants into the basket, but hesitated with his leather jacket. Ever sense Remy had gotten it from his last ex he had worn it everywhere, weather be damned. It seemed weird to some that he would wear a gift from his ex, but Remy didn’t see why it mattered. It was a gift, it didn’t matter who it came from. Emile was waiting for him though, so he chucked it into the bin.

Emile let out a soft giggle when he walked out, “you look so uncomfortable!”

Remy groaned, “I am! This thing is definitely not made for anyone with broad shoulders!”

‘Oh I’m sorry,” the assistant said, trying hard not to laugh “most of the patients we get are all really skinny so…”

“Yeah,” he said “just a bunch of little twigs with mental problems. I must look like a trunk compared to them.”

“I don’t think that-” Emile cut himself off, looking concerned “I don’t think you look that big compared to them. You look healthy, a lot of our patients aren’t for various reasons.”

Great, now he had made it awkward. What happened to all that charisma he had a couple minutes ago? Remy just hard to ruin it with his stupid body problems didn’t he? Plus, now he had just made fun of a bunch of people for being skinny when they probably had eating disorders and other horrible stuff. He hadn’t meant too, but that didn’t really make it any better. 

“Sorry,” Remy said with a groan.

Emile smiled, “don’t worry about it, why don’t we just forget about it? We’ll call it even.”

He grinned, “yeah, thanks babes.”

The two walked in silence for a bit, but it wasn’t as awkward as Remy had thought it would be. Emile would spout out random facts sometimes, but for the most part they both stayed quiet. The assistant looked determined, like finding Remy’s room was this great mission he just had to complete. It gave him this air of confidence that hadn’t been there before, and Remy loved it.

They walked into a newer hallway, one that while looking like the others had this fresh feel about it that he couldn’t place. It was probably the smell of paint that clung to the walls. They stopped in front of the first door, and Emile slid a metal plate into a slot next to it that read ‘REMY SOMNIA’ in silver letters. It was strange looking at his name on a plate, but it was also pretty cool, like it marked his spot.

“Somnia?” Emile said, raising both eyebrows “that's pretty ironic dontcha think?

“What do you mean babes?” Remy asked.

“Somnia, like Insomnia?” the assistant said with a small laugh.

“Oh, I didn’t even think about that,” he said, smiling. 

Emile took a small card out of his pants pocket and passed it below the door. A small click came from the door, and the assistant pushed it open. Looking around, Remy couldn’t believe his eyes. Sure, there was basically nothing of use, but the place was still better than his trashy apartment. How was this clinic/asylum/psych ward thing already making his life better then it had been in years? A cute boy, an amazing room, a guarantee for help with his sleeping problems, next thing he knew he would get a butt-loud of money.

“I’ll probably see you at lunch, but until then you're gonna be locked here by yourself… I’m sorry.” Emile said.

Remy shrugged, “eh, nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

The assistant froze, “what?”

“Don’t worry about it.” he said quickly, trying to hide the sudden panic rising in his throat.

Emile didn’t look convinced but nodded, “ok… I’ll see you in a little.”

Remy forced himself to smile, “see you then babes!”

When the door clicked shut he let out a breath of relief. That had been way too close for his liking, and that wasn’t even the bad part. He really needed to keep his mouth shut, even if Emile was nice, he didn’t need to hear about Remy’s shit. He needed something to distract himself, something to keep the thoughts at bay. Usually he would just go out partying or would call one of his buddies for a little weed, but that wasn’t an option here.

Looking through the nightstands he found the parts for a dismantled alarm clock. It wasn’t really his thing, but putting the stupid item back together would distract him and that was enough for the time being. He settled criss cross on the bed and laid the pieces out in front of him. Remy wasn’t sure how this whole thing would end, but it was off to a good beginning.


	8. Meeting the Others

Turns out sleeping in a chair isn’t exactly the best idea. Virgil woke up with a groan, pain radiating from his neck. Really that was his own fault though, the bed was literally only a few feet away. Rolling his neck, he looked around the bland room. The fluorescent lights were strong, and his eyes hurt from looking at them. Virgil was about to go looking for that clock Joan had mentioned when he heard his door open.

Peeking around the corner of the hall he was relieved to see Talyn, dieing wasn’t exactly his priority, at least not at the moment. The receptionist sent him a sheepish smile, brushing a lock of their ruby hair behind their ear. Virgil hadn’t gotten to get a good look at their outfit before, and he had to say he was impressed. Even he hadn’t worn that much black before, not sense he was a pre-teen anyways. His love of purple had over-ridden his love of the dark color, at least for the most part.

“Sorry about that,” Talyn said “Joan is usually the one who brings you guys to meals and stuff. Thomas told them to take a break though, so I’m taking over for the time being.”

Virgil shrugged, “no big deal, and I’m glad Joan’s getting a break. They looked like they could use it.”

“Yeah…” Talyn said, “but anyways, I have to take all of you to lunch.”

That's right, Virgil had forgotten about the other rooms in his hall that needed to be filled. According to Joan whoever was behind those doors would be the people he was spending most of his time with for who knows how long. Virgil just hoped they weren’t too weird, he had enough to worry about without some weirdos messing with him.

“Alright,” Virgil said with another shrug, “ain’t like I got much going on here anyway.”

Talyn nodded with a small, nervous smile. Leading him out of the room Virgil was surprised at the sudden temperature change. The hall was much cooler than his room was, and he wished he still had his hoodie instead of the thin white jumpsuit. They walked over to the room across the way, a similar name-plate to his own sitting outside of it. The words ‘LOGAN BERRY’ could be read in that robotic silver lettering.

The idea that someone’s name was actually named Logan Berry was far too hilarious. The person’s entire name was a pun! Virgil wasn’t exactly the joking type, but even he had to admit that was funny. Talyn slipped their card beneath the door handle, letting it click open. They slowly opened the door this time, peeking into the room. Virgil looked over their shoulder, surprised to see a tall person sitting on the edge of the bed just staring at the wall.

Virgil had to admit it was a bit unsettling, seeing the blank stare. Logan, as he assumed that's who the person was, hadn’t even reacted when Talyn opened the door. Virgil stood at the door as the receptionist walked over to the edge of the bed. Logan jumped when they were only a few feet in front of them, the two now talking in hushed whispers. Whoever this person was, they clearly had been through some shit. You didn’t just stare at the wall like that, not responding to anything, unless you were dissociating or getting trapped in some sort of flash-back. Virgil would know, better than most people would.

The two walked back out into the hallway, Talyn looking exhausted and Logan still neutral. Did the teen just not emote? If not, Virgil was jealous. He would give up pretty much anything to not have to feel anymore, hell, he had almost given up everything just a couple weeks ago. A chill ran down his spine at the memory as he pushed it away. The less he thought about that the better, for him and for everyone else.

“Hey,” Virgil said looking over the bespectacled teen.

“Salutations,” the teen greeted “I’m Logan Berry.”

The teen held out his hand, and Virgil quickly shook it before pulling away “Virgil.”

“Are you aware of where we are headed?” Logan asked, adjusting their glasses “Talyn seemed to have forgotten to tell me.”

Virgil shrugged, “hell if I know, they just said we were all headed to lunch together.”

Logan nodded, “right, then we would likely be making our way to some sort of Cafeteria right?”

He nodded, fighting back a groan. At least at school, Cafeteria meant a face full of gross food and stolen lunch money. That probably wasn’t likely here, but it was still a chilling reminder. Plus, there was probably going to be a lot of people in there with them, Virgil had never mixed well with people period, let alone lots of them.

Talyn made their way into the next room, the name ‘PATTON HART’ on the name-plate next to it. Virgil opted not to peek this time, it really wasn’t his business and he already felt bad for looking in on Logan. The taller person was standing stiffly next to him, arms held behind their back. Whoever had raised them was clearly pretty traditional, Virgil had never met someone who talked or acted so well… stiffly. If he had to pick a name for the teen that would probably be the word he would use. Even their raven locks were stiff and straight, unlike Virgl’s own wavy black hair.

After a few minutes, he started to get concerned. What could they possibly be doing? Has whoever ‘Patton’ is hurt Talyn? Luckily they both walked out before Virgil could go into full panic mode. The person behind Talyn had curly blonde hair and bright, glassy blue eyes, plus a mountain of freckles all over their skin. They reminded Virgil of those german dolls in weird overall things. Was that racist? He wasn’t sure, but if it was then he was glad he hadn’t said it out loud. The person also had round silver glasses, and from what he could tell they had been crying. 

“Hi!” They said “I’m Patton!”

“Virgil,” he said “though you can just call me Virge.”

Logan nodded towards Patton in a stiff manner, “greetings Patton, are you quite alright?”

If it wouldn’t be considered as rude Virgil would have groaned. At least for him, getting asked ‘are you okay?’ was more of an aggravation than anything else. He didn’t know if Patton was the same way, but he didn’t want to take that chance. Maybe Logan had been taught that it wasn’t ‘polite’ or whatever to not ask, which okay fair enough, but doesnt common sense override the need to be polite? Maybe he was overthinking this.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked in a far too sweet voice, “I’m fine!”

Virgil was far from inclined to believe them, considering the tear stains on their tanned cheeks. He was all for faking it, but it seemed counter-productive when you were in a place dedicated to fixing your mental health. Had they been admitted against their will? They would have to be younger than eighteen then, which Virgil didn’t find all too surprising considering how young they looked.

They all followed Talyn as the receptionist went into the next room, this one labeled ‘ROMAN KINGSLEY’ the room next to it read ‘REMUS KINGSLEY’ were they related? Virgil didn’t paticulerlly care, but it would be interesting. Rolling his neck again, he went to put his hands in his hoodie pockets only remembering when his hands hit air rather than soft fabric. He missed his hoodie, and he probably would until he got it back, if he got it back that is. This place still wasn’t entirely trustworthy, even if the workers he had already met had been nothing but kind.

When Talyn came back out they were followed by someone who Virgil could only explain as handsome. The thought sent warmth through his cheeks and he was grateful he was still wearing that white foundation he had put on earlier. The person had olive skin and dark mocha eyes, their hair was an auburn color and was tousled in just the right way to appear both messy and refined. They seemed a little nervous, but it was over-ridden by the air of confidence swarming around them. Virgil both wanted to kiss and punch the teen, which was a rather disorienting feeling.

“Like what you see?” The teen-Roman-said with a cocky smirk, he must have noticed Virgil’s staring.

Virgil scoffed, rolling his eyes “as if you Disney prince wannabe, I’ve just never seen someone with such a big ego.”

Princey-as Virgil had decided to dub him-cried out dramatically, “you dare? I wouldn’t be talking you emo nightmare.”

“How-” His eyebrows knit together “I’m not even wearing black?”

“But you were when you first walked in were you not?” Princey asked in a cocky tone.

Virgil rolled his eyes, “wearing black doesn’t make you emo you know.”

The handsome teen laughed, “whatever you say J.Delightful!”

“What-” Virgil started to ask but got cut off by Talyn who was standing in the doorway of the next room over, Remus’ room.

“As much as I like hearing you two bicker,” they said with a small smile, “I need you to go wake up your brother, he’s out cold.”

“Its-uh- sister at the moment actually…” Roman said, their voice lacking all that confidence it had just moments before.

Talyn smiled sheepishly, “right, then I need you to go wake up your sister, she’s out cold.”

As Princey left to go wake up his… sister? Talyn went to the room across the hall, the name ‘REMY SOMNIA’ beside it. They would have to go pick up the person to the right afterwards he supposed, which would apparently be someone named Janus Lian. What kind of name was Janus? Virgil didn’t know, but he was probably the last person who should question a weird name. ‘Virgil’ wasn’t exactly on the list of most popular baby names.

“What did Roman mean when he stated that his… sibling was his ‘sister at the moment’ if you don’t mind me asking?” Logan asked, adjusting their glasses.

If Virgil took a guess, Logan was probably one of those kids who was sheltered and raised to be a ‘good little catholic boy’ he could totally be wrong, but that's just the vibe he was getting. Plus, it sounded like the teen hadn’t met anyone who didn’t live in the binary before, which wasn’t really Virgil’s concern but it didn’t surprise him. People in their area were far from accepting, he knew that pretty fucking well.

“My best guess is that their somewhere on the trans umbrella,” Patton said softly “I’m non-binary, but their probably genderfluid or bigender or something amoung those lines.”  
That only seemed to make Logan even more confused, but they didn’t get the time to question it when both Princey and Talyn came back with who Virgil assumed to be Remus-if that was what she wanted to be called anyway-and Remy. Princey’’s sister-who no doubt had to be his twin they looked identical besides the mustache-looked like she had just woken up and heard her dog died. Remy didn’t seem much better off, in fact, Virgil would say they looked even worse for wear with under-eye bags that could rival his own.

“Rema,” Princey whined, “tell this emo nightmare that they are definitely an emo!”

The girl shrugged, “yeah, I can definitely see it. Seems like the type to rip someone’s throat out to, that would be pretty cool.”

For some reason Princey grinned, “yeah, I guess so.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “we get it, I’m emo! Can someone explain why zombie-person over there looks like they haven’t slept in ten thousand years?”

Remy shrugged, “sleep is for the weak babes, you look like you haven’t slept much yourself.”

“Fair enough man,” Virgil said with a small smile.

“On the contrary,” Logan said, looking as blank-faced as ever “sleep is necces-”

The bespectacled teen was cut off when Talyn brought over the last person. Janus looked like a scrawny kid trying to act tough. Their dirty blonde hair was messy, and their eyes-which were two different colors holy shit-glared daggers at all of them. They didn’t seem the least bit intimidating though, not when they were so short compared to the rest of them. Virgil also couldn’t help but stare at the cream splotches covering half of Janus’ face and part of his hands. He had heard of the skin condition before, but he had never seen it in real life.

“What are you staring at?” Janus growled.

Virgil put his hands up as if he were surrendering “chill man, just thought your eyes were cool lookin’”

The scrawny teen turned away, “well stop staring would ya’? Its fucking creepy.”

Patton squeaked in surprise, their face turning red “sorry, I’m not used to-um-that kind of language.”

“Well,” Janus said with an eye-roll “you better get fucking used to it.”

Virgil sighed, so this was going to be the group asshole huh? He knew there had to be one, but he had hoped he was wrong. He would have to get used to it though, get used to all of them. These would be the people he spent basically every waking moment with, and god were they all a pretty eccentric group. They had Logan the nerd, Patton the innocent angel, Princey the drama queen, Rema the weirdo, Remy the tired wine aunt, Janus the troubled child, and him, the emo. Yeah, this wasn’t going to work out very well was it?

“Janus plea-” Talyn said, looking like they kind of wanted to punch this scrawny kid in the throat.

“It's Dee!” The kid hissed, eyes narrowing “no one here gets to call me fucking Janus.”

Talyn only nodded with the vaguest of sighs, “alright, I’m sorry Dee, but can you please try to keep the cursing at a minimum? I don’t expect you to stop, but it bothers some of the other patients.”

Dee smirked, “fuck that!”

“Just for lunch, please?” Talyn begged, “I really don’t feel like dealing with another fight when we’re so short-handed.”

The whole group paled at that, and even Dee looked surprised. Virgil knew about the fork incident, but had there really been fights over someone cursing? He wasn’t surprised if he was honest, the people in this place all had to deal with some sort of shit to get in here didn’t they? It would follow that some of them wouldn’t mind starting some shit. Dee was probably one of those kids who didn’t mind fucking with everybody, but they clearly were all talk and no game. They probably knew there was no way they could win.

Talyn began walking down the hall, “let’s go, lunch is about to start and I doubt you all want to be last in line.”


	9. The First Lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait! My mental health was acting up again, (and I may or may not have gotten animal crossing-) but here's the latest chapter for you all! If all goes well, the next chapter should be up soon!

The Cafeteria was far more docile than Logan had thought it would be. There was a long line of other people in white jumpsuits waiting for food, along with many sitting at tables. He had expected the place to be loud, much like school, but instead it was almost silent. Almost no one was talking, and about half of them weren’t even eating by the looks of it.

Talyn led them over to the right, away from the line. When they stopped in front of a table all the way in the corner they turned to face them, “this will be your table, you’ll all eat here for every meal while you're here.”

Dee groaned, “we have to eat together?”

Talyn nodded, “It makes it easier for the workers if we keep you all together. You're not required to talk if that's your concern.”

The teen looked away, “whatever.”

“Well,” Talyn said, turning to face them all again, “you’ll have forty minutes to eat before someone will come to bring you to your living room area. There are two lines, the one on the left is run by Valerie who serves vegan, gluten-free, and allergy free foods. The one on the right is run by Terrence, he serves the meals with meat and dairy and the like. You're free to enter the line whenever you like, the only requirement is that you have to sit at your table when you're not getting food. If you don’t eat at least one meal each day we’ll bring you a meal at the end of the day.”

Roman seemed to pale at that, and Logan had to wonder why. Food was necessary, and while he could understand if someone were sick, why wouldn’t you want to eat otherwise? All these questions were starting to bother him. Shouldn’t he know all of this already? Perhaps his Mother had been hiding more then Logan had first thought, if so, she must have had her own reasons. He couldn’t blame his Mother for not informing him if she deemed it detrimental to him.  
“I’ll leave it at that,” Talyn said “just follow the rules and you should be fine, oh, and don’t talk to any of the other patients. Some of them aren’t very good with strangers.”

With that the receptionist left, leaving them all to do as they wished. Logan was no idiot though, it was clear they couldn’t do very much, considering how many workers were walking around. It wasn’t like he was planning to do any of that though, he wasn’t about to push his luck. Logan still didn’t know entirely what the Ward’s punishments were, and he didn’t plan on finding out.

The others had already begun doing their own things. Roman had sat down at the table, eyes following his sibling who had rushed off to the left line. They seemed close, and Logan wondered if all siblings were like that, he of course wouldn’t know. Dee was going into the right line, his hands fidgeting. The teen was clearly volatile and he figured if anyone was going to be getting in trouble it would likely be him. Remy had gone into the left line, looking like he was going to pass out right then and there. Patton was in the left line as well, and from what Logan could tell the enby was trying to make conversation with the exhausted man in front of them.

Logan was trying to decide which line to head into when he noticed Virgil still standing by the table. The man’s face had gone pale and he was gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles had gone white. It was clearly a sign of nervousness, but Logan wasn’t sure what to do. Roman was clearly too busy watching Rema to be of any use, and Virgil was clearly not going to be able to help himself in his state.

So Logan did the only thing he could think of, “Virgil, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” the man snarled, his voice low.

Something in Logan clammed up, maybe it was Virgil’s tone, he wasn’t sure, but adrenaline shot through his system. He didn’t flinch though, he had learned not to rather quickly, it was improper, men weren’t supposed to be scared, men weren’t supposed to feel. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to though, because some part of him was positive Virgil would hit him right then and there. That was illogical thought, and he stifled the fear, instead forcing himself to step closer to the pale man.

“Falsehood,” he said “you are clearly not fine.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, one an indigo almost violet color, and one a vibrant green “I’m fine dumbass, why the hell do you care?”

Logan didn’t even know, he wasn’t supposed to, but something about the fear shining in Virgil’s eyes made his stomach churn “I-”

“Drop it,” Virgil snarled, sitting down at the table and wrapping his arms around his stomach “I don’t need your pity.”

Before Logan could respond Rema came back with a tray of yogurt and strawberries, a juice box sitting next to it. The whole meal was unbelievably juvenile, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the food was going to be just like the food at school. He had of course, never had to buy food as his mother always packed for him, but he had tried it once in middle school and the taste was horrid. When his mother found out, she had made him swear to never eat anything she hadn’t given him herself, those nails of hers digging into his arm.

The reminder sent his stomach plummeting, ghosts of the pain from before shooting up his arms. Scars from nails that had been re-opened over and over feeling as if they’d just been made. He sat down, looking at the table as he winced. Logically, he knew she wasn’t there, but he couldn’t believe that when his arms were burning with what felt like freshly made cuts. He had to keep his composure though, the others couldn’t see him as weak, no one could.

“You good?” Rema asked, and it took a moment for Logan to realize she was talking to him.

“Of course,” Logan replied through gritted teeth, forcing himself to meet her eyes “why wouldn’t I be?”

The teen didn’t look convinced, rolling emerald eyes “because you were staring at the table clutching your arms?”

Logan cleared his throat, “Well, thank you for your concern. I am quite alright, Virgil on the other hand, I believe could use some assistance.”

Virgil glared at him, but it wasn’t nearly as intimidating when he was shaking so hard. The difference from the mellow, sarcastic man from before and the one Logan was looking at now was jarring, and he found it hard to believe they were the same person. He wasn’t sure what to do about it though, and it was becoming harder and harder to focus on just about anything but the ghosts of whispers in his ears.

Now focused again Roman turned to Virgil, “whats up emo?”

“I-” Virgil’s voice was shaking now, low and warbled, “People, I-”

“Yeah,” Rema replied, “I hate people too, what does that have to do with it though?”

Virgil made a face and Logan quickly cut in, “I believe he is implying that he has social anxiety. Is that correct?”

The man nodded, wincing as someone close to them raised their voice slightly, “yeah, I, there’s so many of them-”

Logan nodded, the pain retreating slowly as he focused on the problem at hand, “you're likely suffering from a panic attack, you need to ground yourself.”

“Well,” Virgil snarled, “If I knew how, I would have done that already don’t you think?”

“Oh,” Rema cut in, scrunching up her nose “I hate those.”

Roman nodded in agreement, “we don’t exactly have anything grounding through. They took all our stuff when we came in.”

He was right of course, and Logan wasn’t sure if Virgil even could follow along with a conversation. The anxious man was clearly having trouble talking, and he wasn’t sure what would happen if he didn’t ground him quickly. Logan hadn’t done much research into the topic though, he had always spent his little free time looking into space and astrology. Stars and Planets weren’t exactly helpful right now though.

“Ah,” Logan said, an idea popping into his head “perhaps we could provide a distraction by talking? I have heard focusing on something helps one to calm down.”

Rema nodded, “Roman has a bunch of hyperfixations he really likes talking about, that could work!”

The teen ducked his head, face going red “Rema I don’t think-”

Logan nodded though, worriedly watching Virgil’s hazing eyes “No, that could work.”  
“Oh, oh!” Rema said, holding her spoon above her head “talk about Disney Ro!”

“I don’t know I-” but Roman quickly changed gears when Virgil let out a low whine “okay, okay, so-”

Logan tuned the brunet out though, instead watching the lines. Remy and Patton were about to get their food, still talking about something or other. They were blissfully unaware of what was currently happening at their table, and he almost hoped it would stay that way. If Virgil was so angry at him for trying to help, how would he feel if everyone knew what had happened? The same sentiment arose for Dee, who was now walking in to get his food. Would the volatile teen even care? Would he try to make it worse?

The next thing Logan knew was fingers snapping in his face, Rema’s fingers to be exact. The teen was looking at him with an eyebrow raised, “Earth to nerdy wolverine. You with us?”

Logan nodded, adjusting his glasses “yes, my apologies. Have I missed something?”

“Well,” Rema said “while you were spaced out the Emo calmed down, and now he’s arguing with my brother about Disney. Remy and Patton showed up, and they were talking about drinks or whatever, and Dee came by for a second before leaving to look for Emile or something.”

Had he spaced out for that long? Logan hadn’t even noticed, “well, I’m glad Virgil is alright now.”

The teen shrugged, “yeah, yeah, though I got a feeling it’s not going to last. Anyways, I was gonna ask why you haven't gotten food yet. You seem like the kind of guy to be big on health or whatever.”

Logan shuffled in his seat, “ah, I am. However, I… doubt the food here is at all healthy.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Rema said, “but suit yourself. If we could get multiple trays I would.”

“If I may ask a question,” he said “why did you choose to go into the left line?”

The teen shrugged, “Roman said I should sense I have a peanut allergy. I honestly don’t care as long as I get to eat, but not dying is fun too.”

Logan went to respond but was interrupted as Dee plopped down beside Rema, a scowl on his face “I can’t find Emile fucking anywhere. The dumbass said he would meet me here.”

Remy turned away from Patton, looking at Dee with a curious expression on his face “Emile? Why are you so concerned about him, I’m sure we’ll see him later babes.”

The teen glared at the exhausted man, amber and brown eyes narrowed “its none of your business you fucking zombie. And don’t call me that!”

The man put his hands up in mock surrender as Patton cut in, “hey maybe we should stop with the name calling and cursing? I just… you heard what Talyn said.”

Dee paled at that, falling silent as he turned to his eggs and bacon. Logan didn’t know why the teen was so keen on finding Emile, but he supposed it wasn’t any of his business. In reality, nothing the others did was his business. Virgil having social anxiety wasn’t his business. If Logan was smart, he wouldn’t have even associated himself with any of them. If he was smart, he wouldn’t have bothered helping Virgil. Perhaps he wasn’t smart though, perhaps his Mother had been right when she said he owed his intellect all to her, that he was an idiot without her.

“Hey,” Rema said, cutting through his thoughts, “you ever thought about killing someone?”

Logan was scared to admit that he had, dozens of times.


	10. Tells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's yet another chapter, I promise things will get a little fluffier soon! The next chapter will hopefully be up soon, thank you for your patience!

Patton was doing better, really they were. Remy was a big help, and their playful argument over coffee or tea was a great distraction from the growing pit of anxiety in their stomach. That distraction was getting distracted though, and Patton could feel the thoughts creeping back into their mind. Everyone else was talking, Remy to Dee, Roman to Virgil, Logan to Rema, and Patton didn’t want to interrupt.

The Cafeteria was loud, not in a everyone’s talking sort of way, just that there were so many people that it felt loud. Trays slamming on tables, occasional whispers, the sounds of plastic utensils scraping against the plastic of the trays. Patton’s eyesight had always been rather bad, and without their glasses they were basically blind. Their hearing however, had always been better than most. Their doctor said it was due to their brain making up for their poor eyesight, but Patton knew it wasn’t just that.

They hadn’t always lived with their Aunt and Uncle, their parents took care of them for a good eleven or so years. Patton wasn’t sure if they could confidently say taking care of however, even if they wanted to. It wasn’t their parent’s fault that they had gotten addicted to heroin and alcohol, they couldn’t help the fact that they would go through horrible withdrawals if they quit. If Patton simply had to do everything for themselves then what did it matter? At least their parents weren’t in horrible pain from not feeding their needs.

“You good babes?” Remy asked, dark grey eyes filled with a tired concern “you spaced out for a hot minute there.”

Patton internally chastised themselves for making Remy worry, they didn’t deserve it.They were supposed to worry and care for others, not the other way around. Bottling the brewing emotions churning in their stomach they gave off one of their brightest smiles. Just for show, they pushed their tray with two vegan donuts away. 

“I’m fine!” Patton said brightly, “just not hungry that's all!”

Remy didn’t look so sure but shrugged, “if you say so. I’m going to go get some napkins.”

As the exhausted man walked away Dee leaned forward slightly, “you a horrible liar you know” he hissed so quietly only Patton could hear.

Patton frowned slightly, “i’m not lying!”

Dee snorted, a small smile crossing his face “you did it again! Your tell is so fucking obvious. You scratch your neck everytime you lie.”

Scratch their neck? Patton supposed that was possible, but even so how had Dee noticed? Almost everyone scratched their necks for all kinds of reasons, it was totally normal! No one was that observant were they? If so then that was just yet another thing Patton was behind at.

“Oh yeah,” Patton said with a slight giggle, “then what's everyone else’s tell Mr. Danger Noodle?”

Dee blinked in confusion before snorting, “danger noodle really? I would have thought you’d have been more creative than that!”

Patton shrugged, “what? Who doesn’t like a good danger noodle?”

“Anyways,” the teen said, a subtle smile on his face “everyone else’s tells are really obvious too. The nerd adjusts his glasses, the prince wannabe’s voice gets slightly more quiet, the emo tugs on his left ear lobe, and the walking zombie draws out the first letter of the lie. The only one I can’t figure out is the racoon, it's like she never lies!”

Patton’s eyes widened in surprise, “have we all really lied that much?”  
Dee shrugged, “people lie at least three times in the first ten minutes of knowing a person. Plus all of you keep saying you're ‘fine’ even though we're sitting in a literal Psych Ward.”

“I suppose you have a point…” Patton considered before smiling over at the teen, “so what's your tell then?”

Dee smirked, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Come on!” Patton whined “you’ve got to have one!”

“Of course I do,” Dee said “everyone does. I just don’t plan on telling you.”

Patton let out a small whine, but they didn’t complain any more then that. If Dee didn’t want to tell them then they didn’t want to push. It was yet another reminder that they didn’t really know any of the people here, that they didn’t really know Remy or Dee or even Emile and Thomas. The realization hurt, and only made the longing for their Aunt worse.

“I don’t usually give a shit,” Dee said “but you good? ‘Cause you seriously look like you're about to cry.”

Patton forced their smile even harder, positive they probably looked just a little insane “I’m fine!” they only noticed they were scratching their neck after Dee stared at their hand.

“Bullshit,” Dee muttered, but he didn’t press.

Remy came back, starting a conversation with Dee about Emile for some reason, Patton couldn’t be bothered to listen. They were lost in thought, more specifically, they were lost in endless thoughts and worries about their Aunt and Uncle. They wouldn’t cry, not with other people around, but god did they want to. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many ways their Aunt and Uncle could get pulled away from them for good. They could get out of the Ward and be left with nothing and no one, they could end up never seeing their Aunt and Uncle again.

Patton needed to see them, needed to call them. They needed to know if they were alive, hear their voices and hug them and tell them they loved them. They had to get out of here, they had to go see their Uncle at his job and make sure he didn’t burn himself while welding. They needed to help their Aunt at the bakery and make sure nothing caught fire. They needed to get out of here. They had to get out of here. They were going to get out of here.

“Patton?” Talyn asked, voice laced with confusion and concern.

Blinking, they were surprised to see Talyn standing at the head of the table. Everyone was looking at them now, and the tight curl of anxiety only coiled tighter. Their muscles were tense and they forced them to relax. Had they really been about to run out of here? That was stupid, and Patton knew it. Chastising themselves they forced a smile, but it was hard when everyone was looking at them.

Virgil looked away first, turning to Talyn “you were saying Tal?”

Patton let out a small breath of relief, meeting Virgil’s eyes as the man gave a small nod and quickly turned away. The others turned back to look at Talyn, who Patton had pieced together must have been making an announcement. Dee caught their eye, raising a single eyebrow ever so slowly. Patton shook their head, not even bothering to smile.

“Anyways,” Talyn said “I’ll be taking you to the living area assigned to your hall. Each group gets their own space that's equipped with things you wouldn’t get in your rooms like a television and game console and that sort of thing. You’ll stay there until dinner, then be brought back after dinner until it's time to go back to your rooms. Lilly will be in the room with you just to make sure everything goes okay.”

Talyn let the group gather their trash, throwing it all away in the big garbage can at the end of their table before leading them into the maze of white halls. Roman and Virgil were still talking, though it sounded more like an argument to Patton. Logan and Rema were playing some sort of word association game, though it was a bit more on the not safe for work side. Remy looked like he was just trying to stay awake, eyes half-lidded and a hand running against the wall to stabilize himself. 

“Jeez,” Dee said beside Patton, making the enby jump “the zombie looks like he’s literally gonna fall over at any second huh?”

Patton nodded hesitantly, “aren’t you worried?”

The teen shrugged, “not really,” he said, meeting Patton’s eyes, “why should I be? It doesn’t concern me does it?”

“But-I-but-” Patton sputtered, taken away with the boy’s utter lack of empathy “how could you say that?”

Dee’s eyes darkened, face contorting into one of disbelief “you can’t possibly tell me that you don’t believe that this isn’t a dog eats dog world?”

Patton bit their lip, on one hand sure, the world wasn’t great and people did selfish things, but on the other, everyone had their own reasons. They always tried to think the best of others, tried to understand where everyone was coming from. Even Dee must’ve had a reason for being so aggressive, for being so pessimistic towards the world. They didn’t know why, but they didn’t see why it mattered, Dee was hurting and that's all they needed to know.

“I don’t know,” Patton muttered finally, deciding to go with an in-between answer for their own sake.

Dee rolled his eyes, “well, that's disappointing.”

“What?” They asked, eyebrows tugging together.

“I was hoping for a good debate,” Dee said, a mischievous smirk growing on his face “but ‘I don’t know’ is hardly a good argument.”

Patton was still confused, they had expected Dee to be angry, not whatever this was. “I-” they stutterd “what?”

The teen huffed, “I may be irritable but I’m not going to judge anyone for their world views Patton. Everyone has their own perspective and does things for their own reasons, who am I to judge?”

That sounded rather like Patton’s own principals, perhaps a bit extreme but still similar. They wouldn’t say they agreed to the judging part exactly, murderers and fighters and such were still bad, but they could agree with the perspective part. Everyone had their own reasons for doing what they did, even bad people did their actions for specific reasons. As their Aunt always said, ‘everyone’s the hero in their own story’ though Patton would say that someone would likely know their actions are wrong when they made them.

“Are you two seriously discussing philosophy right now?” Remy asked.

Dee smirked, “why not?”

Patton however, was very concerned about the fact that Remy looked like he was about to pass out right there and then “Remy… you should really take a nap or something. You look like you haven’t slept in days!”  
“I haven’t,” Remy said with a hollow laugh “don’t worry about me though girl, this is pretty normal for me.”

“Someone can go insane after three days of not sleeping,” Dee said with a slight frown, “do you seriously want to risk that?”

“It's better than sleeping,” Remy muttered.

Before Patton had the chance to reply, Talyn cleared their throat to catch their attention. The enby had unlocked the door to what would be their living area, and Patton had to admit it was nice. It didn’t have that cozy lived in feeling their own house had, but it was still really nice. There was a large television with a Switch hooked up to it, a large white sofa set in front of it. There was also an Ipod on a nightstand like table with two speakers next to it, a small bookshelf with different titles hanging on the wall above it.There were different paintings and such around the room, some of them abstract and some a tad more realistic.

“Ay!” Someone said, coming out of the room “nice to meet you guys!”

The woman was just a little taller than Patton, her brown hair pulled back into a braid. She was wearing a simple white collared shirt with black jeans and white sneakers. The little name tag hanging from her collar read ‘Lilly .S. She/Her’ in black lettering. Patton had always liked the name Lilly, they thought it was pretty. 

“I called first turn on the switch!” Rema called.

Roman groaned, “no fair Rema!”


	11. Mario Kart and Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the newest chapter, sorry it had to be delayed a day, I wanted to do some research to make sure the facts I was giving were correct. If they're still wrong though feel free to correct me in the comments and I'll edit this chapter! I know the internet isn't always reliable when it comes to this sort of stuff. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys like it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The group had already adjusted rather well to the room, or at least as well as seven strangers with mental problems could. Logan had curled up on the couch with one of the books from the shelf, Patton was sitting criss cross beside him and Remy was slouched on the opposite end per everyone’s request. The couch didn’t have a lot of room though, so Virgil and Dee had perched themselves on the arm rests. Roman and Rema had taken the floor, attempting to turn on the Switch. Unfortunately for them, neither one of them was exactly tech savvy.

Rema let out a low growl, “goddamit I hate technology, what kind of rich kid doesn’t know how to use fucking tech?”

“We’re not rich though-” Roman protested.

“Well we’re not fucking poor,” Rema said with a snort “Mom and Dad just didn’t bother to get us anything. How the fuck did you not notice?”

Roman didn’t know, and the realization was rather embarrassing. He knew they weren’t struggling by any means, but he didn’t know they were rich. If he was honest, he was surprised Rema had even noticed. Sure, out of the two of them he was less observant, but his sister wasn’t exactly the epitome of alertness. Thinking of his sister, had she gained more energy sense they’d arrived? He had noticed it before, but she almost never bounced back as quickly as she seemed to be now. Was it because their parents were away?

“Roman,” the nerd-kid said, interrupting his train of thought. What was the kid’s name again? He knew it started with an L, was it Liam? No. Lucas? Further.

A hand was placed on his shoulder, jolting him out of his other train of thought. Looking up he was surprised to see Virgil touching his shoulder with a sleeve covered hand, he looked embarrassed and quickly turned away, “sorry I just-”

Roman waved him off, “its cool emo, it happens a lot. Anyways, whats up nerd?”

The nerd let out a huff, “its Logan, and I was simply turning on the device sense you didn’t seem to know how to.”

“I know how to!” Roman said indignantly.

“Of course you do,” Dee drawled out, and he wasn’t sure if it was sarcasm or not.

“How do you know how anyway?” Roman asked, attempting to turn the conversation away from himself. 

Logan adjusted his glasses, “my Mother bought a switch for me to make up for… a prior engagement. I never used it however, dismantling it was far more interesting.”

“Suit yourself nerdy wolverine,” Rema said with a shrug “I just want to beat Roman’s ass on Rainbow Road.”

Blinking in surprise, he glanced over at the now brightened screen. The only game available was Mario Kart 8, which their ex-friend from school had taught them how to play a while back. Logan handed him the red controller and Rema blue before retaking his seat back on the couch and opening his book. They chose a Grand Prix for the Special Cup per Rema’s insistence and chose their characters, Roman playing as Mario and Rema as Dry Bones.

“So,” Dee said with a smirk “wanna take bets?”  
Remy’s eyes narrowed, “your on!”

Virgil and Logan both agreed as well, and Patton said they didn’t want to be a part of it but they would support both of them. Virgil and Dee bet on Roman whilst Logan and Remy bet on Rema. He had to admit that he was a tad offended that the nerd and the zombie thought he would lose, but it was nice to have Virgil and Dee on his side. Rainbow Road made him nervous though, Rema was scarily good at it.

The race began and Rema let out a whoop as she knocked Roman to the side, “take that! Come on my cheerleaders, cheer for me!”

Remy let out an unenthused whoop, but it was more because he was exhausted then anything else “you go girl!”

Rema grinned widely at that, and it wasn’t her wild one either, she almost looked embarrassed. Despite the fact that she was currently kicking his ass in Mario Kart, he was still happy she was getting so comfortable around here. He flashed Remy a grateful smile as he came in 3rd behind Rema and an annoying Toad. The tired man gave him a thumbs up, and Virgil gave him a small smile and a shake of his head.

They were onto Bone Dry Dunes, and Roman kept running into every single Dry Bones, causing Rema to cackle “yes my brethren! Drown my brother in the sand until he turns into one of us!”

Logan put down his book for a moment, an eyebrow raised, “I highly doubt Mario would turn into a Dry Bones upon decomposition. Not to mention that it would take at least a few years for his body to completely rot and turn into a skeleton. Perhaps if Roman were playing Yoshi the circumstances would be different.”

Patton let out a squeak of surprise, “isn’t this game supposed to be for children?”

“Well,” Logan said “Pokemon is under the same pretense, however many adults enjoy playing it. Not to mention the entirety of Pokemon’s mechanics are based on the fact that people are making their trained pets fight to what could be the death against each-other.”

Rema cackled, “like dog fighting! Oh, or cock-fights! That sounds awesome!”

Patton let out a whine, “are all games violent in some way? Is Animal Crossing secretly Hel or something?”

Dee smirked, “Oh yes Patton, Tom Nook is Satan and all of the villagers are simply his demon minions trapping you in eternal purgatory.”

Patton looked horrified and Virgil shifted on his perch, “relax Pat, he’s just messing with you.”

Roman and Rema were starting Bowser’s Castle now, and he found it hard to focus on the conversation behind him. He heard what they were saying obviously, but it was like it went in one ear and out the other as he focused on trying to beat his sister. She was already gaining a lead, and he was the closest he had gotten to beating her yet. 

“-he hyperfixates sometimes, no idea why though” Roman heard as he turned back into the conversation. He had finally beaten his sister after using a red shell and a blue shell to slow her down.

“Hyperfixation can be completely normal for someone when they are very passionate for something,” Logan said simply “however that didn’t seem like hyperfixation exactly.”  
“Isn’t hyperfixation when you're just really into something?” Virgil asked.

Logan nodded, “it's most notable as an Autistic symptom, but just about anyone can do it.”

“Well whatever the term is I can understand you now,” Roman cut in “so you can stop talking like I’m not in the room.”

“Oh great!” Rema said “now you can hear me cheering when I kick your ass on Rainbow Road!”

Roman groaned as he was immediately knocked off the course as his sister zoomed past him. The other characters were soon under the same treatment, getting slammed to the side by a very giddy Rema. Soon she had such a lead that he didn’t even bother trying to win. Setting the controller down in a very huffy defeat, he watched along with the others as Rema cheered. 

“Pay up babes,” Remy said in what sounded like an attempt to be smug, but just came out as dead-panned and tired.

“I will when you sleep,” Dee said, an edge to his voice.

Virgil nodded, “I’m with blondie over there, you look like a racoon with those eye bags, and that's coming from me.”

Remy rolled his eyes, “this again, just drop it already. I’m not going to sleep, and I’ve made that as clear as I can.”

Dee rolled his eyes, “you’ll regret it, but suit yourself. Also, Virgil, if you call me ‘Blondie’ again I swear to god I will fucking stab you.”

Patton laughed nervously, “Your… joking right?”  
The teen shrugged, “who knows, am I?”

Neither Patton nor Virgil looked reassured by that, and it was only made worse when Rema started talking about how much of a bloody mess that would be, Logan supplying facts to either support or deny her claims. Roman wasn’t really interested though, instead he was more focused on trying not to squirm or fidget or interrupt or do anything really. His Mom had always hated when he would kick his legs or fidget with his fingers or pace, and he always got reprimanded for interrupting or talking too fast, he didn’t want to annoy anyone here with it though.

“You good Princey?” Virgil asked, spooking Roman “you look stressed.”

The emo was sitting criss cross next to him now, not close enough for them to be touching but still close. He looked tense, and Roman could see the tension in his shoulders. If he was more thoughtful, he probably would have stopped his sister before she went on her rampage about blood and guts and the like. It was hard to stop Rema when she started talking though, she just refused to drop a topic when she started, really she refused to stop talking at all if he was honest. Their parents were the only ones who could really get her or Roman to stop talking when they started.

“Sorry about Rema,” he said as quietly as he could, which wasn’t very quiet all things considered but if Rema heard she didn’t say anything.

Virgil shrugged, “it's fine, she seems pretty happy talking about it anyways. Has she always been so into blood and guts and stuff?”

Roman nodded, “sense we were kids. It's almost impossible to get her to stop talking once she starts, even I can’t always get her to stop.”

“Yeah I used to be like that with music,” Virgil said, shifting so that he could hug his knees to his chest.  
“Why don’t you do it anymore?” Roman asked without thinking, when he realized what he’d said he was quick to back track “you don’t have to tell me obviously! If it's personal or something I get it, I don’t even know why I said that I just-”

He drummed his fingers against his collar bone, too nervous to even try stopping himself. Nervous wasn’t exactly his sort of thing, but Virgil’s anxious energy was surprisingly contagious. Not to mention the fact that now he was fidgeting in front of Virgil, and Virgil might get mad at him for it like his parents would, and then Virgil wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore and-

“Jesus Ro chill,” Virgil said, “I’m not gonna get mad or whatever just because you're fidgety, I do that alot to.”

He blinked, “I said that out-loud?”

Virgil nodded, “I didn’t get most of it though, you were talking pretty fast.”

“Oh, sorry” Roman muttered “I know that can be annoying.”

The emo shrugged, rubbing his hands together through his sleeves “It's okay, I get it. I get like that when I’m super nervous.”

“I usually pace or hum, but I don’t like doing it when other people are around” Roman admitted.

Virgil let out an airy laugh, “mood.”

The two of them talked about whatever came to mind after that, mostly Disney and Musicals though. It was nice to gush about it to someone other than Rema for once, his sister was great and all but he could only hear her detailed description of J.D. exploding a few times before he felt sick. The entire time he drummed his fingers against his collarbone whilst Virgil tapped his fingers against his leg. Neither one of them said anything about it though, and Roman was relieved he could fidget for once without being yelled at or told he was annoying. 

“Hey,” Patton said beside them, “you two wanna come play a game with us? Remy fell asleep and we didn’t want to wake him up so we moved over to the book shelf.”

Roman looked up at the couch, surprised to find the man who had been so adamant against sleep curled up on the side of the couch. His mouth hung open slightly, and drool dribbled down his chin. His leather jacket was crumpled beneath him and his head was leaning against the arm rest Virgil had been sitting on previously.

“Is it a good idea to let him sleep?” Virgil asked worriedly, “he seemed pretty adamant that sleep was a bad idea, plus he looks even more tense now then he did earlier.”

The enby sighed, glancing over at Remy “I don’t know if it's the right decision or not, but he said he hadn’t slept in days and I just… I don’t want to wake him up because I don’t think he’ll go to sleep on his own.”

Roman nodded in agreement, “he can be mad all he wants later, but he really needs to get some rest. Let's just go play whatever game they're playing.”

“Yeah…” Virgil muttered, looking over at the sleeping man, “okay.”


	12. The Truth Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I've been having trouble with my computer but I finally got it up and going today!

The game was simple enough.

It started with someone asking the other person a question, any question, and the person had to answer truthfully. Then the person would ask another person and the process would repeat. There were only two rules, no asking super personal questions, and you can’t ask the same person twice. Patton and Rema had created it on the spot, and Logan had flattened out the rules so it would actually work. It was supposedly easy, but Dee had never been one for telling the truth.

There was a comfort in no personal questions, something Virgil had tacked on as soon as he was told the rules. Lying about your favorite color wasn’t necessary, but lying about your past was, so really he had no reason to worry. Dee didn’t like telling the truth at all though, at least not if he could help it. Telling other people about yourself was just too vulnerable, you were practically begging to be hurt when you did that.

There wasn’t much else to do though, especially not with Remy conked out on the couch. So Dee joined them in their stupid circle on the floor, sitting criss cross between Patton and Logan. If he got anything out of this stupid game it would be Rema’s tell, which was only a possibility. Everyone else’s tells were absolutely obvious, and he had picked them up in mere minutes, but Rema’s was basically non-existent, and that fact annoyed him to no end.

Patton started, “Virgil…”

The man glanced up at the enby from behind his bangs, “what?”

“What's your…” they seemed to think for a minute before asking, “favorite animal?”

“Oh that's easy,” Virgil said, sounding surprised, “tarantulas, their cool looking.”

A look of fear flashed across Patton’s face at the mention of the hairy spiders, and Dee couldn’t help but snicker. Of all things, the enby being scared of spiders made too much sense. They honestly were like a child, pure and innocent and far too naive for their own good. Dee didn’t think they were stupid though, just a bit childish.

“Hmm Princey,” Virgil said softly, “favorite Disney movie?”

Roman seemed to take offense to that, of all things, scoffing as he said “I can’t pick a favorite! All Disney movies are incredible!”

Virgil raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t argue “whatever you say Princey.”

There was a moment of silence as Roman seemed to blank out again, was blanking out the right word? Dee didn’t really know, and honestly he didn’t care. The teen could do whatever he damned well pleased, it wasn’t any of his business. Though he was admittedly curious on what exactly was going on in the boy’s head. 

Roman’s head snapped back up after a second, “sorry what were we doing again?”

“Truth game Princey,” Virgil said, not even bothered.

“Ah right!” Roman said just a little too loudly, and blushed when Patton shushed him “sorry, um, Rema favorite book?”

Rema grinned, “Pet Cemetery! Though I like all Steven King books!”

“The idea is rather interesting,” Logan said softly “though entirely unrealistic.”

Rema shrugged, “I just like the death part! Anyways, Lolo, what's the scariest fact you know?”

Logan blanched at the nickname, his cheeks turning red, but he recovered quickly, “Um, well, Many shampoos, soaps, hair dyes and other cosmetic products contain carcinogens that can cause cancer.”

Rema grinned, whilst her brother looked horrified. Patton looked worried, and Virgil ran an anxious hand through his hair. Logan looked unbothered though, and simply shifted on his knees. Dee was honestly not all that bothered, it was just another plot by companies to fuck everyone over. It was just like their food, poisoned in order to up how much money pharmaceuticals and hospitals got. It was all just a stupid scheme, and almost everyone was blind to it.

“Moving on,” Logan said, clearing his throat “Dee what hobbies do you partake in?”

Oh, how was he supposed to answer this? “I take care of reptiles no one wants anymore, mostly snakes” it's not exactly a lie, just an exaggeration.

His snake Mandy had been given to him by an old friend. They hadn’t been able to keep her because their little brother was scared of snakes, so Dee had taken her in. Snakes had always been his favorite animal, so he was happy to take her. That was one thing he was grateful for, his adopted father had let him keep Mandy, it was one of the few things he had said thank you for.

“Virgil,” Dee asked “do you have any pets?”

The man nodded, “I have a tarantula named Sally, I got her a few months ago.”

Patton squeaked, “doesn’t it scare you? I mean… they can bite you at any minute!”

Virgil shrugged, “she has a cage, and she cares about me too much to do that. Anyways, Logan, favorite song?”

“I am rather partial to Fitter, Happier by Radiohead” Logan replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Huh,” Virgil hummed, “don’t think I’ve heard it.”

Dee had though, and he knew exactly what the lyrics were. He had been obsessed with it before he discovered jazz, and the song fit Logan to a tee. Really he shouldn’t have been surprised, they were in a psych ward after all, they were bound to be fucked up, but it was still surprising nonetheless. Maybe if he was just a bit more like Patton, just had a bit more empathy, he would care. That wasn’t Dee though, so he stayed quiet. 

“Patton,” Logan asked “when did you first start wearing glasses?”

The enby froze up, but they didn’t shy away from the question “well I knew I needed them since I was six, but… I didn’t get them until I was twelve.”

“Six years?” Logan blanched, “how did you pass any of your classes? How did you even function?”

Dee agreed with Logan, going six years without glasses was absolutely ridiculous. He could tell Patton was getting uncomfortable though, shifting where they sat and looking down at the ground. At this rate the enby was going to start crying, and Dee really didn’t want to deal with that. Crying really wasn’t his thing, just as much as sensing social cues didn’t seem to be Logan’s.

“Enough,” Dee muttered, “Patton just ask your question.”

The enby sent him a grateful smile, and Dee caught Logan looking properly ashamed in the corner of his eye, “Rema, what are all your names and pronouns and stuff?”

The teen perked up, “well when I’m a girl it's she/her and Rema, when I’m boy it's Remus and he/him, and then when I’m neither or both I go by Reem and use they/them!”

Dee could handle name changes, he did with some of his clients even. He didn’t just sell opioids after all, testosterone was also a frequent sell of his, and he sold some heroin here or there. Heroin wasn’t one he used though, just something that was easy to sell for a good buck when he needed it. A few of his clients were trans, some non-binary, agender, genderfluid, you name it. The lgbt community was unfortunately common in the drug world, just another problem with society, shutting people out for being who they are and causing them to turn to drugs to solve their problems.

“Oh okay!” Rema said, “Ro, favorite Footloose song!”

Roman’s nose scrunched as he thought, before jumping up “Holding Out For A Hero!”

Dee had never seen footloose, and it seemed most of the others were with him, Patton looked up in excitement however, “oh I love that one!”

“Dee,” Roman said “what's your favorite musical?”

Well that was difficult, he rather liked musicals “Chicago and Hadestown I’d say, both are good.”

Most wouldn’t take him for a musical kid, and really that's how he preferred it. That didn’t mean he wasn’t though, and he would probably have to use both hands twice just to name all of the ones he’d listened to. Chicago just fit him though, and the history behind it was terribly interesting. Hadestown held a special place in his heart though, as one of the first he’d ever listened to, so he’d always tied both for his favorites.

Roman hummed, “not what I expected, but not bad.”

“What?” Dee asked with a smirk, “did you expect Waitress or something?”

The teen shook his head, “I figured you’d be partial to Hamilton, you seem like the kind of guy to enjoy historical stuff.”

He shrugged, “sure, but Hamilton isn’t exactly accurate, and if you were to go down that route you could also say Six. You could even say Phantom of the Opera. Though Chicago also has some interesting history behind it.”

Virgil cut in, “I didn’t peg you for the musical kind Dee.”

Flinching, he snapped “he asked.”

The man was about to reply when the sound of shuffling caused them all to freeze. Lilly had been working on some papers the whole time, but that wasn’t the sound of papers shuffling. Looking up, Dee was surprised to see Remy sitting up on the couch, curled in on himself and as pale as a vampire. In fact, he would even say the man was paler then Virgil, and that was saying something.

“Remy?” Patton asked softly, getting to their feet.

He didn’t reply.


	13. Spacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I'm so sorry this took so long to post! My mental health took a dumpster dive and this chapter was a little to triggering for me to write without risking making it worse. I hope I can get out another chapter soon though to make up for the long wait.

Sleep was easy for most, but for Remy it was a horrible hell he could never explain. It was the same thing sense he was six, the same horrible nightmares plaguing him and destroying any sleep he could get. He couldn’t escape it when he woke up either, the sounds still echoing in his ears as if they were right there, a horrible fear churning in his stomach.

“-my?”

He felt like he was underwater, and even if he knew someone was speaking he couldn’t hear them. No, all he could hear was those… those sounds. They grated into his head, pulling him away from wherever the hell he was to there. Remy felt like he was six all over again, his body burning and sick and so wrong. Then he was seven, and eight, and nine, and ten, and the memories were suffocating.

“-kay?”

Remy struggled to listen, struggled to hear, he couldn’t understand what they wanted from him. He sucked in air from his throat, scrubbing at his face furiously. He knew how to deal with these, so why couldn’t he remember? It was too much, there was too much, everything was too much. Curling in on himself, Remy hugged his knees to his chest. Then he felt something, someone was touching him.

“NO!” he screeched, though it felt warbled from the sob stuck in his throat.

The hand quickly retracted and he felt a wave of relief, “leave me alone, please. I’m fine, leave me alone.”

“-ullshit” he heard someone growl, it seemed familiar, safe.

“-usic?”

“-ot likely to help.”

There was some sort of shuffle, silence taking over wherever he was. Remy couldn’t remember for the life of him where he was or who he was with, and even the year was really fuzzy. Whoever the people around him were he was familiar with them, he tried focusing on what they were saying rather than the echoing noise in his ears.

“Remy? Can you hear me?”

Logan. That was Logan who was speaking to him, Remy remembered now. That was Dee next to him, and Virgil, and Patton, and those stupid twins, and that lady who invited them in that he couldn’t remember the name of. A relief came knowing he could remember stuff better, but that crushing fear was still churning in his stomach.

“Yeah,” he choked out “I’m fine.”

Dee scoffed, rolling his eyes “yeah right, your so fucking fine man I can’t beleive how good you are right now, I’m so fucking jeoulous man.”

Patton smacked his arm lightly, “Dee, don’t be insensitive!”

“Nah its cool,” Remy interrupted before Dee could murder the enby, “I’m good now, sorry about that.”

All of them eyed him with high skepticism, but he pointedly ignored it. His shit wasn’t there business, and it never would be. Plus, they were just pretending to care so they didn’t seem like assholes, they had no reason to care about him. Remy pushed himself to a standing position, hoping his shaking legs and hands weren’t as notable to them as they were to him.

“So, when's dinner?”

The worker’s-Lilly?-eyes widened as she checked her wrist watch, “shit, I’m supposed to have you guys there in the next five minutes.”

“Cool,” Remy said with a forced smirk “let’s go.”

Getting to dinner was an interesting experience, for Remy anyway. Everyone around him had dissolved into conversation he wasn’t interested in contributing in. He didn’t try paying attention to where they were going either, staring at the back of Virgil’s boots to make sure he was staying with the group. No, instead of being normal Remy was busy trying not to go-as he called it-spacy. Nothing really felt real around him, and he didn’t really feel in control of his limbs. That was normal for him really, but it wasn’t something he was used to dealing with when people were around.

Without really processing what he was doing, Remy joined the group in the Cafeteria, made it through his respective line, and grabbed his dinner, sitting down with the rest of the group. He felt like he was floating, or like he was being controlled in one of those third person video games. He didn’t eat either, offering it to Virgil when he noticed the boy was too nervous to get it himself.

“Do you how do Remy!”

Remy jumped, spinning around to see a smiling Emile sitting next to him. The worker looked exhausted, slouching in on himself despite the bright smile on his face. He almost wanted to tell Emile to go away, to go talk to Dee and leave him alone to deal with his shit by himself. He didn’t though, and it totally wasn’t because the worker was cute or anything.

“Hey babes!” Remy said, his enthusiasm just a little forced “whats up?”

“Well,” the man said, drawing out the word “I couldn’t help but notice that you hadn’t gotten any food! Did you already eat?”

Remy quickly nodded, he felt bad about lying but he didn’t want Emile on his case “yeah, I ate pretty fast.”

The worker raised an eyebrow but he didn’t argue which Remy was grateful for. He was definitely more grounded now then he had been in the last twenty or so minutes, but he still didn’t have the energy to argue. Dee interrupted them, gaining Emile’s attention to talk about something. They were whispering though, and Remy didn’t feel like trying to listen.

A part of him was concerned about what would happen after dinner. If they were going back to their rooms-something he found likely-how was he going to spend the night? It wasn’t like he had any electronics to keep him occupied, or even a book. If Remy had been right in the head he would have stolen a book from the ‘living room’ to spend the night reading. He hadn’t done that though, and now he needed to think of a way to keep himself occupied so he didn’t fall asleep. 

Dinner ended faster then he would have liked, those of them with trays throwing them away before following Emile back out into the white maze. The chatter had mostly died down, all of them tired and not in the mood to talk. Virgil was leaning on Roman, despite the fact that he was trying to make it look like he wasn’t it was obvious. Patton was trailing after Dee, an anxious energy radiating off of them like the plague. Logan was attempting to stay engaged in conversation with Rema, the only one of them who seemed even remotely energetic.

When they reached their hall they each muttered a goodbye as they headed into their rooms one by one. Eventually it was just Remy and Emile, and while a part of him was excited for the alone time the other was anxious to be alone. They didn’t say much, just looking into each other’s eyes for a devastatingly long minute. To Remy’s surprise though it wasn’t awkward, and he almost enjoyed the chance to study Emile’s features.

“I.. I have to go,” Emile whispered, and it was painfully obvious he didn’t want to leave.

Remy smirked a little, the first real smile he’d worn since he fell asleep “of course babes, I’ll see you tomorrow right?”

The worker nodded and Remy’s smirk widened, “well, then I’ll see you tomorrow beautiful.”

Emile’s face flushed a bright red and he muttered out a quick goodbye before scurrying away, the door locking behind him. Remy let out a soft sigh, letting the smile drop as he glanced over to the nightstand next to his bed. The clock he had managed to put together sat there, the hands probably on the wrong time sense he had no way to set it. Without anything better to do, he supposed taking it apart and remaking it was how he was going to spend the next few hours.

This was going to be a long night.


	14. Good (Bad) Morning!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, its been awhile huh? I know I keep saying it, but I am truly sorry. I know this chapter is also rather short, but I promise the next few won't disappoint! I hope your enjoying this story as much as I am, and I'm sorry again for the delays!

The night was wholly uninteresting. Virgil hadn’t been able to sleep through most of it due to his little ‘nap’ earlier, and so he was left with absolutely nothing to do. The clock hadn’t proved to be very interesting either, especially since he couldn’t even set it. Taking a shower had passed the time at the very least, but it had only made him jumpy. After that, flashes of that day a few weeks ago kept running through his head.

Thats why, when a knock came pounding through his room Virgil was relieved. Being around people was anxiety inducing, but at least it was something compared to the mind-numbing boredom. Hurriedly putting on his socks and boots, Virgil was surprised to see Joan waiting at his door. The enby still looked tired, but at least they weren’t a walking zombie anymore.

“I thought you were taking a break?” Virgil asked, his voice softer then he had meant it to be.

The enby shrugged, “technically, I did. Thomas didn’t specify how long I had to be gone, and I did tell him I’d be back today.”

Joan ushered him out of the room, and Virgil was surprised to see he was actually the last one out rather than the first. Logan gave him a stiff wave, while Patton’s was much more bubbly. Roman simply smiled at him, a half-smile that made his stomach jump into his throat. Promptly ignoring the feeling, Virgil glanced over to Remy and Dee, one of whom looked just as tired as they had the day before and the other giving the floor a death glare.

“Alright so,” Joan said as they began leading the group through the maze of halls, “after breakfast you actually won’t be going to the living room thing, you’ll be going to a group therapy with Dr.Sanders and Emile.”

Virgil paled, group therapy? So what, he was supposed to sit in a circle with a bunch of people he didn’t know and talk about his feelings? Talking to Dr.Sanders and Emile one-on-one had already been nerve-wracking enough, he could only imagine how badly he’d react when placed in a circle with people like Dee or Rema.

From the looks of it Virgil wasn’t the only nervous one either. Roman and Rema shared a look that could only be read as ‘oh fuck’. Patton’s smile faltered, and the skip in their step significantly decreased. Logan had immediately put his arms in a death-grip, stubby nails digging into his skin. Remy had paled, while Dee turned his murder-glare to Joan rather then the floor.

“I know that sounds bad,” Joan said with a sigh “but they won’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to, and you’ll only be in there for a few hours, it’ll be fine I promise.”

Virgil highly doubted that, but he didn’t say as much. Dee was not as polite, “and how can you guarantee that? You don’t control the future you know.”

The enby sighed, “I can’t, but you’ve met Thomas and Emile, their trust-worthy. Honestly you guys couldn’t have gotten a better pair than them, considering not everyone in this place is nearly as accepting.”

What Joan meant by that exactly, Virgil didn’t know, but he got the feeling it wasn’t a good thing. He wasn’t stupid though, and it was times like these that he was really glad he was cis. Being trans was unfortunately not widely accepted, especially not in their area, and he could only imagine the fear coursing through Patton and Rema’s veins. Looking at their faces, Virgil could see the way they had closed in on themselves, even Dee looked more shut-down then angry now.

The group went on in silence after that, something that seemed to be hanging heavy after the whole thing with Remy the night before. Virgil had no idea what exactly the man had seen, but seeing the reaction he isn’t even sure he wants to. Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing though if their constant glances at the insomniac were anything to go by.

Virgil probably should have expected things to go down-hill, it wasn’t like they were in Disneyland. The fact that any of them had been smiling and laughing earlier seemed surreal. Before coming here Virgil would have to have someone else order for him when he went out. Now he was sitting around and playing video games with a bunch of strangers? He was being surprisingly careless.

If his older sister had been there she probably would have yelled at him, if she had even noticed to begin with. Being the middle child of eleven kids in a pretty rough neighborhood had left him pretty forgotten, and blending in became one of his many talents. In a lot of situations it was really useful, like now where he could lag behind the group a little without issue. Sometimes though, being forgotten could be fatal.

“What could you possibly be thinking so hard about?” Virgil jumped, turning to see Roman walking beside him, for once he was glad for the interruption.

“Oh yunno, spiders and how much life sucks” he said with a smirk “the usual.”

The prince-like teen rolled his eyes, ones that Virgil swore were emeralds “gosh, could you be more emo?”

Virgil’s smirk only grew, “why? Am I getting on your nerves alre-”

“No!” Roman cut in, putting his hands up quickly “I-uh-sorry that was rude huh? But no, your no-your not getting on my nerves I swear.”

“Whatever you say Princey.”

Both of them fell quiet after that, and he wondered briefly if he was supposed to talk next. Conversations didn’t exactly have a guide-book, one of the main reasons Virgil despised them, and for some reason getting on Roman’s good side seemed really important. Sure it was probably partially because the dude was way too hot for his own good, but Virgil wondered if it could also be because Roman was actually listening to him. Usually people just looked through him when he talked, like he was a ghost, but Roman didn’t do that for some reason. For the first time in maybe ever, Virgil felt seen.

“So what about you?”

Roman jumped, “uh-what?”

“What were you thin-”

“Oh! Right, well I was honestly kind of curious how this whole group therapy thing is gonna work you know?”

Virgil nodded, because it was true, he was curious how this whole shit-show would be going down. He wondered if it would be like that whole mess in his middle school when the guidance counselors had tried to get them all to talk about their feelings in a big circle. If so, this was both going to be hilarious and mortifying for all of them.

“You think anyone will actually talk?”

“No idea.”


	15. The Dreading Hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... guess who’s alive?!
> 
> I’m sorry for the wait, but I decided to finally take everyone’s advice and give myself a full break. I also had school start up for me a few months ago and that’s been eating away at my time. I’m really grateful to everyone for putting up with me, and I really hope you enjoy this new chapter.
> 
> That being said I do have some important things to say. For one, I’m removing the relationship tags. This fic is meant to explore the characters and their mental health, and I feel relationships would get in the way of that. Though if I do make a sequel then I’ll include the ships. Two, my writing style and what I want to do with these characters has changed a lot sense I first wrote this story. So while I’ll keep the first 14 chapters up, they’re will likely be some changed later on that don’t correlate with them (for instance Rema/Remus is no longer going to be Bipolar because I don’t think I can represent that accurately). I will rewrite those chapters eventually, but for now I wanted to tell you my stance on them. Three, I actually have this entire fic outlined now, and it’s actually 54 chapters, so keep in mind this will likely take me a long time to finish.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy the new chapter and all the chapters yet to come!
> 
> Also: Warning for extreme homophobia and the f-slur here.

To say things were tense would be an understatement.

Logan has never been the best at reading situations (it just wasn’t his strong suit), but even he could notice how blatantly uncomfortable all of them were. Virgil hunched in on himself as Roman handed him the meal he apperently didn’t plan to eat. Rema fidgeting non-stop with whatever utensils she could get her hands on. Even Dee was scowling at his uneaten tray with clenched fists.

If his Mother were here she would force him to lighten the conversation, to break the awkward tension that had settled over them. She wasn’t here though, and without threat of punishment Logan didn’t think he was brave enough to attempt small talk. Social situations were hard for him as it was, breaking such thick tension would be damn near impossible.

Adjusting his glasses, Logan picked at his weirdly wet pancakes with a fork. He was still apprehensive about eating, but he had no idea how long he would be here and the human body could only go so long without nutrition to fuel it. Roman would likely be in the same boat he figured, sense the dramatic teen hadn’t eaten once while they were here either.

He wondered, briefly, what his Father would think of this whole ordeal. The man had died when Logan was young, and as such he really didn’t know much about him, but Logan did remember his kindness. The man had been some sort of rich intellectual, an Ivy League graduate his Mother said, but Logan only remembered a warm smile and kind brown eyes.  _ ‘He would be proud’  _ Logan thinks,  _ ‘I’m taking care of my mental health, that’s a good thing.’ _

Logan actually wasn’t sure if it  _ was  _ a good thing, but it seemed like it would be if they had such important buildings built for the purpose of achieving it. Why his Mother had deemed the place so horrible for him was beyond Logan’s understanding, and he found himself yet again wishing his Mother would just  _ explain  _ things to him. He wasn’t a child, he could handle the truth.

Rema nudged him in the rib, giving him a wicked grin despite the tense posture in her shoulders. Logan appreciated the effort, and gave her a stiff smile in return, it only seemed polite. That seemed to please her though and she went back to fidgeting with the set of sporks she had somehow smashed together to create a wheel of sorts. It was highly intriguing, and Logan cursed himself for being so infatuated with such a dumb concept. His Mother would be ashamed.

_ ‘Why do I care what she thinks?’  _ He asked himself, staring down at the spork-wheel as it spun on the table,  _ ‘If I’m happy isn’t that all that matters?’  _

“Jeeze,” a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts, “You guys look like your preparing for a funeral.”

“A funeral would be more fun then  _ therapy,”  _ Virgil muttered.

Joan tolled their eyes fondly, waiting for them all to throw away their mostly untouched trays before leading them down the opposite hall that they typically went down. Logan found himself wondering what the next few hours would unload, considering therapy amongst mentally ill individuals could hardly be considered a ‘normal’ occurrence.

When they arrived in a small hall with about four wooden doors spaced far away from each other, Joan lead them all to the far left one. A brunet woman stood there, her smile a little wide for her face and blue eyes icy in a way Logan had never seen before from anyone but his Mother. The woman gave him a bad feeling, and he knew he wasn’t the only one.

“ _ Joan _ ,” Virgil muttered, “I thought we we’re working with Thomas and Emile today.”

“You  _ are,”  _ Joan replied, giving the woman an annoyed look, “Karen, what're you  _ doing  _ here?”

“Oh just checking in on Thomas’ patients,” Karen said, voice sounding sweet and deadly all at the same time, “I wanted to make sure none of them were…  _ iffy  _ you know?”

She looked right at Dee as she said it, like her words were for him specifically. Logan didn’t even particularly like Dee, but the sight of the woman glaring at him like he was a  _ disease  _ made him decidedly protective. Dee didn’t seem to be a fan of the glare either, his scowl faltering slightly as he stepped further behind Roman.

“ _ Actually Karen,”  _ Joan grit out, dark eyes steely, “I  _ don’t  _ know what you mean. Care to  _ elaborate?” _

Karen rolled her eyes, “ _ please,  _ you  _ fags  _ know  _ exactly  _ what I’m talking about. You better watch your backs, all of you, your corrupting these youth with your…  _ gayness  _ and I won’t stand for it!”

Logan wasn’t very educated on the subject, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think what she had said was by any means a compliment. The enraged looks on everyone else’s faces was more then enough to tell him it was an insult. It crossed his mind then that maybe  _ this  _ was why his Mother hadn’t told him about the they/them thing.

“ _ Excuse me?” _

Coming down the hall was a furious Dr.Sanders and terrified Emile. While the younger man came to stand next to Remy, the Doctor had no qualms about marching straight up to Karen’s face. Joan wore a smug look, and Logan wondered if he somehow knew Thomas and Emile would be coming down the hall just then,

“You have  _ no  _ right to talk to employees or my patients that way!” Thomas spit, “in fact you shouldn’t be over here  _ at all!  _ You're a  _ receptionist.  _ I could very well get you fired for this behavior.”

Karen scowled at him, “you wouldn’t  _ dare  _ I’m an important part of this facility!”

Joan snorted, “Talyn does a way better job then you  _ ever  _ could.”

Enraged, she stormed off, face as red as a tomato. Logan fought the urge to smile at the woman’s anger, but everyone else felt no sympathy as they sniggered amongst themselves. Logan caught sight of Emile and Dee whispering to each other, but he decided to ignore it in favor of Rema clapping loudly as if Thomas had just performed some great performance rather than yelled at a nasty co-worker.

Thomas, completely flustered now, simply laughed and shrugged. Then he pointed to the door they were all still standing in front of, “so, you all ready for therapy now?”

“ _ Dammit,”  _ Virgil muttered, “I was hoping he’d forget.”


	16. What Do You Want To Know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A daily chapter? Its a Halloween miracle!
> 
> Jokes aside, I'm really happy to be working on this story again. Thank you everyone for being so understanding about my break, and I promise that I have a lot of stuff in store. 
> 
> As a side note I would like to mention that I'm thinking of making a playlist for Welcome To The Clinic, and I was wondering if any of you would actually be interested in that. If so do you have any song recommendations for it?
> 
> With that out of the way, on to the chapter!

No one was particularly happy with Thomas at the moment.

They had all been sat down in metal chairs formed into a circle, Thomas and Emile farthest from the door while Virgil and Dee were closest to it (per their request). Patton could see Dee clenching their fists out of the corner of their eye, pale skin turning red from how tightly they were clenched. Logan on Patton’s other side, seemed tenser then normal (which was really saying something considering it was  _ Logan _ ). Even Patton found themselves fidgeting with their jumpsuit zipper, nerves churning in their stomach.

“We’re not going to get very personal today,” Thomas said with a clear of his throat, “unless you want to say something personal, then that's okay, but I don’t want to jump into things too quickly. We also won’t force you to answer anything you don’t want to, just tell us you're uncomfortable and we’ll stop immediately.”

Joan nodded along as Thomas spoke, leaning against the door frame and simply watching them. Patton would have asked what they were doing exactly, but they didn’t want to interrupt. It was deadly silent for a moment, no one daring to break the silence. They could see Virgil hugging a knee to his chest, and Roman’s foot bouncing harshly against the floor. The tension could be cut with a knife.

“I just want to ask about your day first,” Thomas said eventually, letting out a nervous laugh before continuing, “who wants to go first?”

No one volunteered, and Patton almost winced in sympathy at the growing panic on the young doctor’s face. Emile looked just about ready to bolt from the room himself, staring at his older cousin for a sign of what to do. The silence was setting Patton’s nerves on end, and they finally decided to just go for it themself.

“I’ll go!” They said brightly, and both worker’s visibly relaxed, “My day’s been pretty good so far! Did you have any of those waffles for breakfast? Those were really good. The whole thing with that Karen-lady was really frustrating, but did you see her face afterwards?”

Thomas nodded, “why do you describe it as frustrating Patton?”

“Well people who hate on others for no good reason just really get on my nerves,” they said, “and she didn’t have any good reason to come after Joan or any of us like that.”

“Fair enough,” the doctor agreed, “other than that though you would describe your day as good?”

Patton bite their lip, worrying it for a moment before shrugging non-commitily, “yeah, I guess so.”

Dee snorted, before quickly trying to cover it up with a cough. Emile raised an eyebrow at him, and Dee gave a shrug of his own. They didn’t know how the two had gotten close, but Patton found themselves glad that Dee had at least one person they could share moments like that with. He seemed like he needed it.

_ ‘He deserves it too,’  _ They thought,  _ ‘all of them deserve to be happy and healthy.’ _

Except, if they were all happy and healthy, none of them would have been there. Remy would be sleeping normally and not avoiding it because of horrible nightmares. Virgil wouldn’t panic at the slightest loud noise or crowd. Logan wouldn’t grip his arms in a death-grip every time someone touched him. Patton found themself almost  _ angry,  _ because none of these people deserved to be here. In fact, a place like this shouldn’t have even been  _ needed  _ in the first place.

It reminded them of their parents, fighting against their own demons with drugs and alcohol because they didn’t know how else to cope. Years spent in too-small clothing cooking and cleaning because their parents were too stuck in their minds to do much else but sit there and use. Patton had always blamed the world, not their parents, because if the world was a better place then maybe their parents would still be alive right now rather than sitting in piles of ashes in an urn.

Patton quickly wiped away the tears threatening to leak out of their eyes, tuning back into the conversation, which apparently hadn’t gotten much further in progress.

“I don’t understand the question,” Logan was saying, “I told you my day was satisfactory so far, that's all there is to note.”

“Logan,” Emile said softly, “what did you  _ feel  _ when Karen pulled her…  _ stunt?” _

The taller man bristled, unnecessarily adjusting his glasses as his face contorted into a scowl,  _ “I don’t wish to discuss this topic any longer.” _

Thomas sighed, but complied, “that's okay Logan, thank you for answering. Would anyone else like to talk about their day?”

No one answered again, and Patton got the distinct feeling that it would become a pattern over the next few hours. The doctor pushed his hair back, letting out a breath before smiling, “well my day was actually pretty bad before I got here. There was a lot of paperwork to fill out and I had been in a rather fowl mood when I first came to do the therapy with you all. I’m feeling better now though, a bit nervous of course because this isn’t going how I thought it would, but I’m happy anyways.

“I’m actually  _ really _ happy that you guys came here you know? I know that's really cliche and everything, but I think it's really important that you all know how _ incredible _ it is that you're all here. The first step to recovery is accepting help, and I think almost all of you are at least open to listening to Emile and me and Joan and Talyn. We’re all really proud of you for coming and getting help, even if it was forced on you, and I promise we’ll do whatever it takes to help all of you.”

It was certainly cliche, but Patton could tell the doctor meant every word of it. His eyes were open and earnest, and his voice was so  _ raw  _ like he knew exactly where they were coming from. It was a level of understanding that they had been told they gave off, but they had never been faced with themselves. One look at Emile and Joan’s small smiles as they nodded had tears sprouting in their eyes.

They didn’t actually cry, they didn’t let themself, but that didn’t stop the warm feeling blooming in their chest. The only person who had ever been able to make Patton feel that way before was their Aunt, and they didn’t know whether to feel sad or happy that someone else’s words were making them feel the same way.

Glancing at everyone else, Patton was surprised to see that most of them remained unphased or even looked  _ suspicious.  _ Couldn’t they see how honest Thomas was being? Logan seemed as flat faced as ever, Virgil was staring at the doctor with narrow eyes, Remy seemed wholly unaffected, Dee had raised both eyebrows in disbelief, and both of the twins looked both upset and suspicious at the same time. Patton didn’t understand how they could all possibly miss how earnest the doctor was being, how  _ vulnerable. _

“Thank you Thomas,” Patton said softly, giving him their biggest smile, “It means a lot!”

The doctor gave them a relieved smile, “of course, I think all of you deserve to hear it.”

Suddenly Emile leaned over and whispered something into Thomas’ ear, hand cupped over his mouth so no one could read his lips (as if any of them would be able to). The doctor’s face went from tired and proud, to nervous in a mere second, and soon the two workers were in a heated discussion. Emile must have won though because Thomas’ shoulders were slightly slumped as he turned to face the rest of them again.

“Emile and I think it would be a good way to establish some things about ourselves if we talk about the week we all had before you all came to the Ward.” 

_ Oh no. _


End file.
